Welcome as kindly showers to the long parched earth.

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More from John Dryden

Be kind to my remains; and oh defend,
Against your judgment, your departed friend!

Epistle to Congreve. Line 72.

Whate’er he did was done with so much ease,
In him alone ‘t was natural to please.

For pity melts the mind to love.

Line 96.

Better to hunt in fields for health unbought
Than fee the doctor for a nauseous draught.
The wise for cure on exercise depend;
God never made his work for man to mend.

Epistle to John Dryden of Chesterton. Line 92.

A fiery soul, which, working out its way,
Fretted the pygmy-body to decay,
And o’er-inform’d the tenement of clay.
A daring pilot in extremity;
Pleas’d with the danger, when the waves went high
He sought the storms.