Welcome as kindly showers to the long parched earth.

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More from John Dryden

So softly death succeeded life in her,
She did but dream of heaven, and she was there.

Eleonora, Line 315.

And all to leave what with his toil he won
To that unfeather’d two-legged thing, a son.

When beauty fires the blood, how love exalts the mind!

Line 41.

Since heaven’s eternal year is thine.

Resolv’d to ruin or to rule the state.