The Poetical Works of John Dryden

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Houghton Mifflin, 1909 - 1056 ページ
 

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114 ページ - 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 chymist, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon ; Then all for women, painting, rhyming, drinking, Besides ten thousand freaks that died in thinking.
251 ページ - 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.
114 ページ - Beggar'd by fools, whom still he found too late; He had his jest, and they had his estate.
198 ページ - Happy the man, and happy he alone, He, who can call to-day his own : He who, secure within, can say, To-morrow do thy worst, for I have lived today.
172 ページ - Farewell, too little and too lately known, Whom I began to think and call my own: For sure our souls were near allied, and thine Cast in the same poetic mold with mine.
173 ページ - Still showed a quickness ; and maturing time But mellows what we write to the dull sweets of rhyme. Once more, hail, and farewell ; farewell, thou young, But ah! too short, Marcellus of our tongue! Thy brows with ivy and with laurels bound; But fate and gloomy night encompass thee around.
109 ページ - Gods disgrac'd, and burnt like common Wood. This set the Heathen Priesthood in a flame, For Priests of all Religions are the same: Of whatsoe'er descent their Godhead be...
xli ページ - They have not the formality of a settled style, in which the first half of the sentence betrays the other. The clauses are never balanced, nor the periods modelled; every word seems to drop by chance, though it falls into its proper place. Nothing is cold or languid ; the whole is airy, animated, and vigorous ; what is little, is gay ; what is great, is splendid.
xxi ページ - I am convinced that compassion and mirth in the same subject destroy each other ; and in the mean time cannot but conclude, to the honour of our nation, that we have invented, increased, and perfected a more pleasant way of writing for the stage, than was ever known to the ancients or moderns of any nation, which is tragi-comedy.
134 ページ - What share have we in nature, or in art? Where did his wit on learning fix a brand, And rail at arts he did not understand? Where made he love in Prince Nicander's vein. Or swept the dust in Psyche's humble strain? Where sold he bargains, 'whip-stitch, kiss my arse,' Promis'da play and dwindled to a farce?

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