John Dryden

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John Dryden (August 9, 1631 – May 12, 1700) was an influential English poet, literary critic, and playwright.

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By viewing Nature, Nature's handmaid Art,
Makes mighty things from small beginnings grow.
- Annus Mirabilis, st. 155 (1667)

He [Shakespeare] was the man who of all modern, and perhaps ancient poets, had the largest and most comprehensive soul.
- Essay of Dramatick Poesie (1668)

He was naturally learnèd; he needed not the spectacles of books to read Nature; he looked inwards, and found her there.
- Essay of Dramatick Poesie (1668)

Pains of love be sweeter far
Than all other pleasures are.
- Tyrannick Love, Act IV, sc. i (1669)

I am as free as Nature first made man,
Ere the base laws of servitude began,
When wild in woods the noble savage ran.
- The Conquest of Granada, Pt. 1, Act I, sc. i (1669-1670)

Death in itself is nothing; but we fear
To be we know not what, we know not where.
- Aureng-Zebe, Act IV, sc. i (1676)

When I consider life, 'tis all a cheat;
Yet, fooled with hope, men favor the deceit;
Trust on, and think tomorrow will repay.
Tomorrow's falser than the former day.
- Aureng-Zebe, Act IV, sc. i (1676)

None would live past years again,
Yet all hope pleasure in what yet remain;
And from the dregs of life think to receive
What the first sprightly running could not give.
- Aureng-Zebe, Act IV, sc. i (1676)

With how much ease believe we what we wish!
Whatever is, is in its causes just.
- Oedipus, Act III, sc. i (1679)

Of no distemper, of no blast he died,
But fell like autumn fruit that mellowed long —
Even wondered at, because he dropped no sooner.
Fate seemed to wind him up for fourscore years,
Yet freshly ran he on ten winters more;
Till like a clock worn out with eating time,
The wheels of weary life at last stood still.
- Oedipus, Act IV, sc. i (1679)

There is a pleasure sure
In being mad which none but madmen know.
- The Spanish Friar, Act II, sc. i (1681)

And, dying, bless the hand that gave the blow.
- The Spanish Friar, Act II, sc. i (1681)

They say everything in the world is good for something.
- The Spanish Friar, Act III, sc. ii (1681)

More Safe, and much more modest 'tis, to say
God wou'd not leave Mankind without a way:
And that the Scriptures, though not every where
Free from Corruption, or intire, or clear,
Are uncorrupt, sufficient, clear, intire,
In all things which our needfull Faith require.
If others in the same Glass better see
'Tis for Themselves they look, but not for me:
For MY Salvation must its Doom receive
Not from what OTHERS, but what I believe.
- Religio Laici (1682)

Bold knaves thrive without one grain of sense,
But good men starve for want of impudence.
- Constantine the Great, Epilogue (1684)

Men met each other with erected look,
The steps were higher that they took;
Friends to congratulate their friends made haste,
And long inveterate foes saluted as they passed.
- Threnodia Augustalis, l. 124-127 (1685)

O gracious God! how far have we
Profaned thy heavenly gift of poesy!
- To the Pious Memory of Mrs. Anne Killegrew, l. 56-57 (1686)

Her wit was more than man, her innocence a child.
- To the Pious Memory of Mrs. Anne Killegrew, l. 70 (1686)

So, when the last and dreadful Hour
This crumbling Pageant shall devour,
The TRUMPET shall be heard on high,
The dead shall live, the living die,
And MUSICK shall untune the Sky.
- Song for Saint Cecilia’s Day (1687)

Our vows are heard betimes! and Heaven takes care
To grant, before we can conclude the prayer:
Preventing angels met it half the way,
And sent us back to praise, who came to pray.
- Britannia Rediviva, l. 1 (1688)

Three poets, in three distant ages born,
Greece, Italy, and England did adorn.
The first in loftiness of thought surpassed;
The next, in majesty; in both the last.
The force of Nature could no further go.
To make a third, she joined the former two.
- Under Mr. Milton's Picture (1688)

This is the porcelain clay of humankind.
- Don Sebastian, Act I, sc. i (1690)

A knockdown argument: 'tis but a word and a blow.
- Amphitryon, Act I, sc. i (1690)

Whistling to keep myself from being afraid.
- Amphitryon, Act III, sc. iii (1690)

Fairest Isle, all isles excelling,
Seat of pleasures, and of loves;
Venus here will choose her dwelling,
And forsake her Cyprian groves.
- King Arthur, Act II, sc. v, 'Song of Venus (1691)

Genius must be born, and never can be taught.
- Epistle to Congreve, l. 60 (1693)

Be kind to my remains; and oh defend,
Against your judgment, your departed friend!
- Epistle to Congreve, l. 72 (1693)

Look round the habitable world: how few
Know their own good, or knowing it, pursue.
- Juvenal, Satire X (1693)

Words, once my stock, are wanting to commend
So great a poet and so good a friend.
- Epistle to Peter Antony Motteux, l. 54-55 (1698)

Lord of yourself, uncumbered with a wife.
- Epistle to John Driden of Chesterton, l. 18 (1700)

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 Driden of Chesterton, l. 92-95 (1700)

A very merry, dancing, drinking,
Laughing, quaffing, and unthinkable time.
- The Secular Masque, l. 38-39 (1700)

The sword within the scabbard keep,
And let mankind agree.
- The Secular Masque, l. 61-62 (1700)

All, all of a piece throughout:
Thy chase had a beast in view;
Thy wars brought nothing about;
Thy lovers were all untrue.
'Tis well an old age is out,
And time to begin a new.
- The Secular Masque, l. 86-91 (1700)

Ill habits gather by unseen degrees —
As brooks make rivers, rivers run to seas.
- Ovid, Metamorphoses, Book XV, The Worship of Aesculapius, l. 155-156 (1700)

He was exhaled; his great Creator drew
His spirit, as the sun the morning dew.
- On the Death of a Very Young Gentlemen (1700)

Here lies my wife:here let her lie!
Now she's at rest, and so am I.
- Epitaph, intended for his wife

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All for Love (1678)

The wretched have no friends.
- Act III, sc. i

What flocks of critics hover here to-day,
As vultures wait on armies for their prey,
All gaping for the carcase of a play!
With croaking notes they bode some dire event,
And follow dying poets by the scent.

He's somewhat lewd; but a well-meaning mind;
Weeps much; fights little; but is wond'rous kind.

A brave man scorns to quarrel once a day;
Like Hectors in at every petty fray.

Let those find fault whose wit's so very small,
They've need to show that they can think at all;
Errors, like straws, upon the surface flow;
He who would search for pearls, must dive below.
Fops may have leave to level all they can;
As pigmies would be glad to lop a man.
Half-wits are fleas; so little and so light,
We scarce could know they live, but that they bite.

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Absalom and Achitophel (1681)

Whate’er he did was done with so much ease,
In him alone 't was natural to please.
- Pt. I, l. 27-28

Plots, true or false, are necessary things,
To raise up commonwealths and ruin kings.
- Pt. I, l. 83-84

Of these the false Achitophel was first,
A name to all succeeding ages cursed.
For close designs and crooked counsels fit,
Sagacious, bold, and turbulent of wit,
Restless, unfixed in principles and place,
In power unpleased, impatient of disgrace;
A fiery soul, which working out its way,
Fretted the pygmy-body to decay:
And o'er-informed the tenement of clay.
A daring pilot in extremity;
Pleased with the danger, when the waves went high
He sought the storms; but for a calm unfit,
Would steer too nigh the sands to boast his wit.
Great wits are sure to madness near allied,
And thin partitions do their bounds divide.
- Pt. I, l. 150-164

Bankrupt of life, yet prodigal of ease.
- Pt. I, l. 168

And all to leave what with his toil he won
To that unfeathered two-legged thing, a son.
- Pt. I, l. 169-170

In friendship false, implacable in hate,
Resolved to ruin or to rule the state.
- Pt. I, l. 173-174

The people's prayer, the glad diviner's theme,
The young men's vision, and the old men's dream!
- Pt. I, l. 238-239

His courage foes, his friends his truth proclaim.
- Pt. I, l. 357

All empire is no more than power in trust.
- Pt. I, l. 411

Better one suffer, than a nation grieve.
- Pt. I, l. 416

But far more numerous was the herd of such,
Who think too little, and who talk too much.
- Pt. I, 532-533

A man so various, that he seemed to be
Not one, but all mankind's epitome;
Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong,
Was everything by starts, and nothing long;
But, in the course of one revolving moon,
Was chemist, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon.
- Pt. I, l. 545-550

Railing and praising were his usual themes;
And both, to show his judgment, in extremes;
So over violent, or over civil,
That every man with him was God or devil.
- Pt. I, l. 554-557

Thus in a pageant-show a plot is made;
And peace itself is war in masquerade.
- Pt. I, l. 750-751

Nor is the people's judgment always true:
The most may err as grossly as the few.
- Pt. I, l. 781-782

Large was his wealth, but larger was his heart.
- Pt. I, l. 826

Of ancient race by birth, but nobler yet
In his own worth.
- Pt. I, l. 900-901

Never was patriot yet, but was a fool.
- Pt. I, l. 967

Oh that my Pow'r to Saving were confin’d:
Why am I forc’d, like Heav’n, against my mind,
To make Examples of another Kind?
Must I at length the Sword of Justice draw?
Oh curst Effects of necessary Law!
How ill my Fear they by my Mercy scan,
Beware the Fury of a Patient Man.
- Pt. I, l. 999-1005

Made still a blund'ring kind of melody;
Spurred boldly on, and dashed through thick and thin,
Through sense and nonsense, never out nor in.
Free from all meaning, whether good or bad,
And in one word, heroically mad.
- Pt. II, l. 413

For every inch that is not fool is rogue.
- Pt. II, l. 463

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Mac Flecknoe (1682)

All human things are subject to decay,
And, when fate summons, monarchs must obey.
- l. 1-2

The rest to some faint meaning make pretense,
But Shadwell never deviates into sense.
Some beams of wit on other souls may fall,
Strike through and make a lucid interval;
But Shadwell's genuine night admits no ray,
His rising fogs prevail upon the day.
- l. 19-24

Leave writing plays, and choose for thy command
Some peaceful province in acrostic land.
There thou mayst wings display and altars raise,
And torture one poor word ten thousand ways.
- l. 205-208

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Imitation of Horace (1685)

Happy the man, and happy he alone,
He who can call today his own;
He who, secure within, can say,
Tomorrow, do thy worst, for I have lived today.
- Book III, Ode 29, l. 65-68

Not heaven itself upon the past has power;
But what has been, has been, and I have had my hour.
- Book III, Ode 29, l. 71-72

I can enjoy her [Fortune] while she's kind;
But when she dances in the wind,
And shakes the wings and will not stay,
I puff the prostitute away.
- Book III, Ode 29, l. 81-84

And virtue, though in rags, will keep me warm.
- Book III, Ode 29, l. 87

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A Song for St. Cecilia's Day (1687)

Then cold, and hot, and moist, and dry,
In order to their stations leap,
And Music's power obey.
From harmony, from heavenly harmony,
This universal frame began:
From harmony to harmony
Through all the compass of the notes it ran,
The diapason closing full in Man.
- St. 1

What passion cannot Music raise and quell?
- St. 2

The trumpet's loud clangor
Excites us to arms.
- St. 3

The soft complaining flute,
In dying notes, discovers
The woes of hopeless lovers.
- St. 4

The trumpet shall be heard on high
The dead shall live, the living die,
And Music shall untune the sky!
- Grand Chorus

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The Hind and the Panther (1687)

She feared no danger, for she knew no sin.
- Pt. I, l. 4

And doomed to death, though fated not to die.
- Pt. I, l. 8

For truth has such a face and such a mien
As to be loved needs only to be seen.
- Pt. I, l. 33-34

Of all the tyrannies on human kind
The worst is that which persecutes the mind.
- Pt. I, l. 239-240

Reason to rule, mercy to forgive:
The first is law, the last prerogative.
- Pt. I, l. 261-262

And kind as kings upon their coronation day.
- Pt. I, l. 271

All have not the gift of martyrdom.
- Pt. II, l. 59

War seldom enters but where wealth allures.
- Pt. II, l. 706

Jealousy, the jaundice of the soul.
- Pt. III, l. 73

For present joys are more to flesh and blood
Than a dull prospect of a distant good.
- Pt. III, l. 364-365

T' abhor the makers, and their laws approve,
Is to hate traitors and the treason love.
- Pt. III, l. 706-707

Secret guilt by silence is betrayed.
- Pt. III, l. 763

Possess your soul with patience.
- Pt. III, l. 839

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Alexander’s Feast (1697)

None but the brave deserves the fair.
- l. 15

With ravished ears
The monarch hears;
Assumes the god,
Affects the nod,
And seems to shake the spheres.
- l. 37-41

Sound the trumpets; beat the drums...
Now give the hautboys breath; he comes, he comes.
- l. 50-51

Drinking is the soldier’s pleasure;
Rich the treasure;
Sweet the pleasure;
Sweet is pleasure after pain.
- l. 57-60

The king grew vain;
Fought all his battles o'er again;
And thrice he routed all his foes, and thrice he slew the slain.
- l. 68-70

Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen,
Fallen from his high estate,
And welt'ring in his blood;
Deserted, at his utmost need,
By those his former bounty fed,
On the bare earth exposed he lies,
With not a friend to close his eyes.
- l. 77-83

Softly sweet, in Lydian measures,
Soon he soothed his soul to pleasures.
War, he sung, is toil and trouble;
Honor but an empty bubble;
Never ending, still beginning,
Fighting still, and still destroying.
If all the world be worth thy winning.
Think, oh think it worth enjoying:
Lovely Thaïs sits beside thee,
Take the good the gods provide thee.
- l. 97-106

Could swell the soul to rage, or kindle soft desire.
- l. 160

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Fables, Ancient and Modern (1700)

Chaucer followed Nature everywhere, but was never so bold to go beyond her.
- Chaucer as a Poet, from Preface to the Fables

If the faults of men in orders are only to be judged among themselves, they are all in some sort parties; for, since they say the honour of their order is concerned in every member of it, how can we be sure that they will be impartial judges?
- Chaucer as a Poet, from Preface to the Fables

A satirical poet is the check of the laymen on bad priests.
- Chaucer as a Poet, from Preface to the Fables

For Art may err, but Nature cannot miss.
- The Cock and the Fox, l. 452

Old as I am, for ladies' love unfit,
The power of beauty I remember yet.
- Cymon and Iphigenia, l. 1-2

He trudged along unknowing what he sought,
And whistled as he went, for want of thought.
- 'Cymon and Iphigenia, l. 84-85

When beauty fires the blood, how love exalts the mind!
- Cymon and Iphigenia

She hugged the offender, and forgave the offense:
Sex to the last.
- 'Cymon and Iphigenia, l. 367-368

Of seeming arms to make a short essay,
Then hasten to be drunk — the business of the day.
- 'Cymon and Iphigenia, l. 407-408

Since ev’ry man who lives is born to die,
And none can boast sincere felicity,
With equal mind, what happens, let us bear,
Nor joy nor grieve too much for things beyond our care.
- Palamon and Arcite

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