The Poetical Works of John Dryden: Collated with the Best Editions:

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Printed at the Stanhope Press, by Charles Whittingham, ... for J. Sharpe; and sold by W. Suttaby, 1808
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Page 98 - Tis resolved, for nature pleads that he Should only rule who most resembles me. Shadwell alone my perfect image bears, Mature in dulness from his tender years ; Shadwell alone of all my sons is he Who stands confirmed in full stupidity. The rest to some faint meaning make pretence, But Shadwell never deviates into sense.
Page 8 - Flies o'er th' unbending corn, and skims along the main. Hear how Timotheus' varied lays surprise, And bid alternate passions fall and rise! While, at each change, the son of Libyan Jove Now burns with glory, and then melts with love; Now his fierce eyes with sparkling fury glow, Now sighs steal out, and tears begin to flow: Persians and Greeks like turns of nature found. And the world's victor stood subdued by sound!
Page 30 - He laughed himself from court; then sought relief By forming parties, but could ne'er be chief: For, spite of him, the weight of business fell On Absalom and wise Achitophel: Thus, wicked but in will, of means bereft, He left not faction, but of that was left.
Page 8 - tis heard no more Oh ! lyre divine, what daring spirit Wakes thee now ? Though he inherit Nor the pride, nor ample pinion, That the Theban eagle bear, Sailing with supreme dominion Through the azure deep of air...
Page 18 - 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...
Page 19 - David for him his tuneful harp had strung And Heaven had wanted one immortal song. But wild ambition loves to slide, not stand, And Fortune's ice prefers to Virtue's land.
Page 130 - She parcell'd out the Bible by retail, But still expounded what she sold or gave, To keep it in her power to damn and save. Scripture was scarce, and as the market went, Poor laymen took salvation on content, As needy men take money, good or bad ; God's word they had not, but the priest's they had.
Page 104 - In thy felonious heart though venom lies, It does but touch thy Irish pen, and dies. Thy genius calls thee not to purchase fame In keen Iambics, but mild Anagram. Leave writing Plays, and choose for thy command Some peaceful province in Acrostic land : There thou...
Page 57 - Doeg, though without knowing how or why, Made still a blundering kind of melody; Spurr'd boldly on, and dash'd through thick and thin, Through sense and nonsense, never out nor in...
Page 37 - For whatsoe'er their sufferings were before, That change they covet makes them suffer more. All other errors but disturb a state ; But innovation is the blow of fate.

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