Welcome as kindly showers to the long parched earth.

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More from John Dryden

Wit will shine
Through the harsh cadence of a rugged line.

To the Memory of Mr. Oldham. Line 15.

Great wits are sure to madness near allied,
And thin partitions do their bounds divide.

Part i. Line 163.

Old as I am, for ladies’ love unfit,
The power of beauty I remember yet.

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.