John Dryden

The Flower And The Leaf, Or The Lady In The Arbour. A Vision By John Dryden

The Flower And The Leaf, Or The Lady In The Arbour. A Vision By John Dryden

The Flower And The Leaf, Or The Lady In The Arbour. A Vision Now turning from the wintry signs, the sun His course exalted through the Ram had run, And whirling up the skies, his chariot drove Through Taurus, and the lightsome realms of love; Where Venus from her orb descends in showers, To glad the... »

One Happy Moment By John Dryden

One Happy Moment By John Dryden

One Happy Moment NO, no, poor suff’ring Heart, no Change endeavour, Choose to sustain the smart, rather than leave her; My ravish’d eyes behold such charms about her, I can die with her, but not live without her: One tender Sigh of hers to see me languish, Will more than pay the price of... »

By A Dismal Cypress Lying; A Song From The Italian By John Dryden

By A Dismal Cypress Lying; A Song From The Italian By John Dryden

By A Dismal Cypress Lying; A Song From The Italian By a dismal cypress lying, Damon cried, all pale and dying, Kind is death that ends my pain, But cruel she I lov’d in vain. The mossy fountains Murmur my trouble, And hollow mountains My groans redouble: Ev’ry nymph mourns me, Thus while... »

Song From An Evening’s Love By John Dryden

Song From An Evening’s Love By John Dryden

Song From An Evening’s Love After the pangs of a desperate lover, When day and night I have sighed all in vain, Ah, what a pleasure it is to discover In her eyes pity, who causes my pain! When with unkindness our love at a stand is, And both have punished ourselves with the pain, Ah, what a pl... »

Impromptu Lines Addressed To His Cousin, Mrs. Creed, In A Conversation After Dinner On The Origin Of Names By John Dryden

Impromptu Lines Addressed To His Cousin, Mrs. Creed, In A Conversation After Dinner On The Origin Of Names By John Dryden

Impromptu Lines Addressed To His Cousin, Mrs. Creed, In A Conversation After Dinner On The Origin Of Names So much religion in your name doth dwell, Your soul must needs with piety excel. Thus names, like well-wrought pictures drawn of old, Their owners’ nature and their story told. Your name ... »

A Song. Go Tell Amynta, Gentle Swain By John Dryden

A Song. Go Tell Amynta, Gentle Swain By John Dryden

A Song. Go Tell Amynta, Gentle Swain 1. Go tell Amynta, gentle swain, I would not die, nor dare complain. Thy tuneful voice with numbers join, Thy voice will more prevail than mine; For souls opprest and dumb with grief, The gods ordain’d this kind relief. That music should in sounds convey Wh... »

To Mr. Granville, On His Excellent Tragedy, Called Heroic Love By John Dryden

To Mr. Granville, On His Excellent Tragedy, Called Heroic Love By John Dryden

To Mr. Granville, On His Excellent Tragedy, Called Heroic Love Auspicious poet, wert thou not my friend, How could I envy, what I must commend! But since ’tis nature’s law, in love and wit, That youth should reign, and withering age submit, With less regret those laurels I resign, Which,... »

Prologue To Sophonisba; Spoken At Oxford, 1680 By John Dryden

Prologue To Sophonisba; Spoken At Oxford, 1680 By John Dryden

Prologue To Sophonisba; Spoken At Oxford, 1680 Thespis, the first professor of our art, At country wakes, sung ballads from a cart. To prove this true, if Latin be no trespass, Dicitur et plaustris vexisse poemata Thespis. But Æschylus, says Horace in some page, Was the first mountebank that trod th... »

Epitaph On Sir Palmes Fairborne’s Tomb In Westminster Abbey By John Dryden

Epitaph On Sir Palmes Fairborne’s Tomb In Westminster Abbey By John Dryden

Epitaph On Sir Palmes Fairborne’s Tomb In Westminster Abbey Ye sacred relics, which your marble keep, Here, undisturbed by wars, in quiet sleep; Discharge the trust, which, when it was below, Fairborne’s undaunted soul did undergo, And be the town’s palladium from the foe. Alive an... »

Upon Young Mr. Rogers, Of Gloucestershire By John Dryden

Upon Young Mr. Rogers, Of Gloucestershire By John Dryden

Upon Young Mr. Rogers, Of Gloucestershire Of gentle blood, his parents’ only treasure, Their lasting sorrow, and their vanished pleasure, Adorned with features, virtues, wit, and grace, A large provision for so short a race: More moderate gifts might have prolonged his date, Too early fitted f... »

The Fair Stranger. A Song By John Dryden

The Fair Stranger. A Song By John Dryden

The Fair Stranger. A Song Happy and free, securely blest, No beauty could disturb my rest; My amorous heart was in despair To find a new victorious fair: Till you, descending on our plains, With foreign force renew my chains; Where now you rule without control, The mighty sovereign of my soul. Your ... »

On The Death Of Amyntas. A Pastoral Elegy By John Dryden

On The Death Of Amyntas. A Pastoral Elegy By John Dryden

On The Death Of Amyntas. A Pastoral Elegy ‘Twas on a joyless and a gloomy morn, Wet was the grass, and hung with pearls the thorn, When Damon, who designed to pass the day With hounds and horns, and chase the flying prey, Rose early from his bed; but soon he found The welkin pitched with sulle... »

Britannia Rediviva; A Poem On The Birth Of The Prince By John Dryden

Britannia Rediviva; A Poem On The Birth Of The Prince By John Dryden

Britannia Rediviva; A Poem On The Birth Of The Prince 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. Just on the day, when the high-mounted sun Did farthest in his nor... »

To The Memory Of Mr Oldham By John Dryden

To The Memory Of Mr Oldham By John Dryden

To The Memory Of Mr Oldham 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 mould with mine. One common note on either lyre did strike, And knaves and fools we both abhorred alike. To the same goa... »

Song From Amphitryon By John Dryden

Song From Amphitryon By John Dryden

Song From Amphitryon Air Iris I love, and hourly I die, But not for a lip, nor a languishing eye: She’s fickle and false, and there we agree, For I am as false and as fickle as she. We neither believe what either can say; And, neither believing, we neither betray. ‘Tis civil to swear, an... »

Hymn For St. John’s Eve, 29th June By John Dryden

Hymn For St. John’s Eve, 29th June By John Dryden

Hymn For St. John’s Eve, 29th June O sylvan prophet! whose eternal fame Echoes from Judah’s hills and Jordan’s stream; The music of our numbers raise, And tune our voices to thy praise. A messenger from high Olympus came To bear the tidings of thy life and name, And told thy sire e... »

A Song To A Fair Young Lady Going Out Of Town In The Spring By John Dryden

A Song To A Fair Young Lady Going Out Of Town In The Spring By John Dryden

A Song To A Fair Young Lady Going Out Of Town In The Spring 1. Ask not the cause why sullen spring So long delays her flowers to bear; Why warbling birds forget to sing, And winter storms invert the year; Chloris is gone, and Fate provides To make it spring where she resides. 2. Chloris is gone, the... »

The Wife Of Bath Her Tale By John Dryden

The Wife Of Bath Her Tale By John Dryden

The Wife Of Bath Her Tale In days of old, when Arthur filled the throne, Whose acts and fame to foreign lands were blown, The king of elves, and little fairy queen, Gambolled on heaths, and danced on every green; And where the jolly troop had led the round, The grass unbidden rose, and marked the gr... »

Prologue To His Royal Highness, Upon His First Appearance At The Duke’s Theatre After His Return From Scotland. By John Dryden

Prologue To His Royal Highness, Upon His First Appearance At The Duke’s Theatre After His Return From Scotland. By John Dryden

Prologue To His Royal Highness, Upon His First Appearance At The Duke’s Theatre After His Return From Scotland. In those cold regions which no summers cheer, Where brooding darkness covers half the year, To hollow caves the shivering natives go, Bears range abroad, and hunt in tracks of snow. ... »

Epitaph On Mrs. Margaret Paston, Of Barningham, In Norfolk By John Dryden

Epitaph On Mrs. Margaret Paston, Of Barningham, In Norfolk By John Dryden

Epitaph On Mrs. Margaret Paston, Of Barningham, In Norfolk So fair, so young, so innocent, so sweet, So ripe a judgment, and so rare a wit, Require at least an age in one to meet. In her they met; but long they could not stay, ‘Twas gold too fine to fix without allay. Heaven’s image was ... »

Upon The Death Of Lord Hastings By John Dryden

Upon The Death Of Lord Hastings By John Dryden

Upon The Death Of Lord Hastings Must noble Hastings immaturely die, The honour of his ancient family, Beauty and learning thus together meet, To bring a winding for a wedding sheet? Must virtue prove death’s harbinger? must she, With him expiring, feel mortality? Is death, sin’s wages, g... »

The Character Of A Good Parson. Imitated From Chaucer, And Enlarged By John Dryden

The Character Of A Good Parson. Imitated From Chaucer, And Enlarged By John Dryden

The Character Of A Good Parson. Imitated From Chaucer, And Enlarged A parish-priest was of the pilgrim-train; An awful, reverend, and religious man. His eyes diffused a venerable grace, And charity itself was in his face. Rich was his soul, though his attire was poor, (As God had clothed his own amb... »

On The Death Of A Very Young Gentleman By John Dryden

On The Death Of A Very Young Gentleman By John Dryden

On The Death Of A Very Young Gentleman He, who could view the book of destiny, And read whatever there was writ of thee, O charming youth, in the first opening page, So many graces in so green an age, Such wit, such modesty, such strength of mind, A soul at once so manly and so kind, Would wonder wh... »

Astræa Redux. A Poem, On The Happy Restoration And Return Of His Sacred Majesty, Charles The Second By John Dryden

Astræa Redux. A Poem, On The Happy Restoration And Return Of His Sacred Majesty, Charles The Second By John Dryden

Astræa Redux. A Poem, On The Happy Restoration And Return Of His Sacred Majesty, Charles The Second Now with a general peace the world was blest, While ours, a world divided from the rest, A dreadful quiet felt, and worser far Than arms, a sullen interval of war. Thus when black clouds draw down the... »

To The Lord Chancellor Hyde. Presented On New-Year’s Day, 1662 By John Dryden

To The Lord Chancellor Hyde. Presented On New-Year’s Day, 1662 By John Dryden

To The Lord Chancellor Hyde. Presented On New-Year’s Day, 1662 My Lord, While flattering crowds officiously appear To give themselves, not you, an happy year, And by the greatness of their presents prove How much they hope, but not how well they love,— The muses, who your early courtship boast... »

Song (Sylvia The Fair, In The Bloom Of Fifteen) By John Dryden

Song (Sylvia The Fair, In The Bloom Of Fifteen) By John Dryden

Song (Sylvia The Fair, In The Bloom Of Fifteen) Sylvia the fair, in the bloom of fifteen, Felt an innocent warmth as she lay on the green: She had heard of a pleasure, and something she guessed By the towsing and tumbling and touching her breast: She saw the men eager, but was at a loss What they me... »

Hidden Flame By John Dryden

Hidden Flame By John Dryden

Hidden Flame I FEED a flame within, which so torments me That it both pains my heart, and yet contents me: ‘Tis such a pleasing smart, and I so love it, That I had rather die than once remove it. Yet he, for whom I grieve, shall never know it; My tongue does not betray, nor my eyes show it. No... »

A Song. Fair, Sweet And Young, Receive A Prize By John Dryden

A Song. Fair, Sweet And Young, Receive A Prize By John Dryden

A Song. Fair, Sweet And Young, Receive A Prize 1. Fair, sweet, and young, receive a prize Reserved for your victorious eyes: From crowds, whom at your feet you see, O pity, and distinguish me! As I from thousand beauties more Distinguish you, and only you adore. 2. Your face for conquest was design&... »

Threnodia Augustalis By John Dryden

Threnodia Augustalis By John Dryden

Threnodia Augustalis; A Funeral Pindaric Poem, Sacred To The Happy Memory Of King Charles Ii. I. Thus long my grief has kept me dumb: Sure there’s a lethargy in mighty woe, Tears stand congealed, and cannot flow; And the sad soul retires into her inmost room: Tears, for a stroke foreseen, affo... »

Prologue To Albumazar By John Dryden

Prologue To Albumazar By John Dryden

Prologue To Albumazar To say this comedy pleased long ago, Is not enough to make it pass you now. Yet, gentlemen, your ancestors had wit, When few men censured, and when fewer writ. And Jonson, of those few the best, chose this, As the best model of his master-piece: Subtle was got by our Albumazar,... »

Epilogue To The Husband His Own Cuckold By John Dryden

Epilogue To The Husband His Own Cuckold By John Dryden

Epilogue To The Husband His Own Cuckold Like some raw sophister that mounts the pulpit, So trembles a young poet at a full pit. Unused to crowds, the parson quakes for fear, And wonders how the devil he durst come there; Wanting three talents needful for the place, Some beard, some learning, and som... »

Troilus And Cressida By John Dryden

Troilus And Cressida By John Dryden

Troilus And Cressida Can life be a blessing, Or worth the possessing, Can life be a blessing if love were away? Ah no! though our love all night keep us waking, And though he torment us with cares all the day, Yet he sweetens, he sweetens our pains in the taking, There’s an hour at the last, t... »

The Beautiful Lady Of The May By John Dryden

The Beautiful Lady Of The May By John Dryden

The Beautiful Lady Of The May I. A quire of bright beauties in spring did appear, To choose a May-lady to govern the year; All the nymphs were in white, and the shepherds in green, The garland was given, and Phillis was queen; But Phillis refused it, and sighing did say, I’ll not wear a garlan... »

Ode By John Dryden

Ode By John Dryden

Ode To the Pious Memory of the Accomplished Young Lady, Mrs Anne Killigrew, Excellent in the Two Sister-arts of Poesy and Painting. Thou youngest Virgin Daughter of the skies, Made in the last promotion of the blest; Whose palms, new-plucked from Paradise, In spreading branches more sublimely rise, ... »

Ask Not The Cause Why Sullen Spring By John Dryden

Ask Not The Cause Why Sullen Spring By John Dryden

Ask Not The Cause Why Sullen Spring Ask not the cause why sullen spring So long delays her flow’rs to bear; Why warbling birds forget to sing, And winter storms invert the year? Chloris is gone; and Fate provides To make it spring where she resides. Chloris is gone, the cruel fair; She cast no... »

To My Honor’D Friend, Dr. Charleton (Excerpt) By John Dryden

To My Honor’D Friend, Dr. Charleton (Excerpt) By John Dryden

To My Honor’D Friend, Dr. Charleton (Excerpt) The longest tyranny that ever sway’d Was that wherein our ancestors betray’d Their free-born reason to the Stagirite, And made his torch their universal light. So truth, while only one supplied the state, Grew scarce, and dear, and yet ... »

Satire On The Dutch By John Dryden

Satire On The Dutch By John Dryden

Satire On The Dutch As needy gallants, in the scrivener’s hands, Court the rich knaves that gripe their mortgaged lands; The first fat buck of all the season’s sent, And keeper takes no fee in compliment; The dotage of some Englishmen is such, To fawn on those who ruin them,—the Dutch. T... »

Heroic Stanzas By John Dryden

Heroic Stanzas By John Dryden

Heroic Stanzas Consecrated to the Glorious Memory of His Most Serene and Renowned Highness, Oliver, Late Lord Protector of This Commonwealth, etc. Written After the Celebration of his Funeral 1 And now ’tis time; for their officious haste, Who would before have borne him to the sky, Like eager... »

A Song For St. Cecilia’s Day By John Dryden

A Song For St. Cecilia’s Day By John Dryden

A Song For St. Cecilia’s Day FROM harmony, from heavenly harmony, This universal frame began: When nature underneath a heap Of jarring atoms lay, And could not heave her head, The tuneful voice was heard from high, ‘Arise, ye more than dead!’ Then cold, and hot, and moist, and dry,... »

The Secular Masque By John Dryden

The Secular Masque By John Dryden

The Secular Masque Enter JANUS JANUS Chronos, Chronos, mend thy pace, An hundred times the rolling sun Around the radiant belt has run In his revolving race. Behold, behold, the goal in sight, Spread thy fans, and wing thy flight. Enter CHRONOS, with a scythe in his hand, and a great globe on his ba... »

Prologue To Caesar Borgia By John Dryden

Prologue To Caesar Borgia By John Dryden

Prologue To Caesar Borgia The unhappy man, who once has trailed a pen, Lives not to please himself, but other men; Is always drudging, wastes his life and blood, Yet only eats and drinks what you think good. What praise soe’er the poetry deserve, Yet every fool can bid the poet starve. That fu... »

Epilogue To Henry Ii. By John Dryden

Epilogue To Henry Ii. By John Dryden

Epilogue To Henry Ii. Thus you the sad catastrophe have seen, Occasioned by a mistress and a queen. Queen Eleanor the proud was French, they say; But English manufacture got the day. Jane Clifford was her name, as books aver; Fair Rosamond was but her nom de guerre. Now tell me, gallants, would you ... »

Te Deum By John Dryden

Te Deum By John Dryden

Te Deum Thee, Sovereign God, our grateful accents praise; We own thee Lord, and bless thy wondrous ways; To thee, Eternal Father, earth’s whole frame With loudest trumpets sounds immortal fame. Lord God of Hosts! for thee the heavenly powers, With sounding anthems, fill the vaulted towers. Thy... »

Marriage A-La-Mode By John Dryden

Marriage A-La-Mode By John Dryden

Marriage A-La-Mode Why should a foolish marriage vow, Which long ago was made, Oblige us to each other now When passion is decay’d? We lov’d, and we lov’d, as long as we could, Till our love was lov’d out in us both: But our marriage is dead, when the pleasure is fled: ‘... »

Annus Mirabilis, The Year Of Wonders, 1666 By John Dryden

Annus Mirabilis, The Year Of Wonders, 1666 By John Dryden

Annus Mirabilis, The Year Of Wonders, 1666 1 In thriving arts long time had Holland grown, Crouching at home and cruel when abroad: Scarce leaving us the means to claim our own; Our King they courted, and our merchants awed. 2 Trade, which, like blood, should circularly flow, Stopp’d in their ... »

To My Honoured Kinsman John Driden, Of Chesterton, In The County Of Huntingdon, Esq. By John Dryden

To My Honoured Kinsman John Driden, Of Chesterton, In The County Of Huntingdon, Esq. By John Dryden

To My Honoured Kinsman John Driden, Of Chesterton, In The County Of Huntingdon, Esq. How blessed is he, who leads a country life, Unvexed with anxious cares, and void of strife! Who, studying peace, and shunning civil rage, Enjoyed his youth, and now enjoys his age: All who deserve his love, he make... »

Sigismond And Guiscardo. From Boccace By John Dryden

Sigismond And Guiscardo. From Boccace By John Dryden

Sigismond And Guiscardo. From Boccace While Norman Tancred in Salerno reigned, The title of a gracious Prince he gained; Till turned a tyrant in his latter days, He lost the lustre of his former praise, And from the bright meridian where he stood Descending dipped his hands in lovers’ blood. T... »

Happy The Man By John Dryden

Happy The Man By John Dryden

Happy The Man 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. Be fair or foul or rain or shine The joys I have possessed, in spite of fate, are mine. Not Heaven itself upon the past has power, But what h... »

A Prologue By John Dryden

A Prologue By John Dryden

A Prologue Gallants, a bashful poet bids me say, He’s come to lose his maidenhead to-day. Be not too fierce; for he’s but green of age, And ne’er, till now, debauched upon the stage. He wants the suffering part of resolution, And comes with blushes to his execution. Ere you deflowe... »

Theodore And Honoria. From Boccace By John Dryden

Theodore And Honoria. From Boccace By John Dryden

Theodore And Honoria. From Boccace Of all the cities in Romanian lands, The chief and most renowned Ravenna stands; Adorned in ancient times with arms and arts, And rich inhabitants with generous hearts. But Theodore the brave, above the rest, With gifts of fortune and of nature blessed, The foremos... »

Prologue Spoken The First Day Of The King’s House Acting After The Fire By John Dryden

Prologue Spoken The First Day Of The King’s House Acting After The Fire By John Dryden

Prologue Spoken The First Day Of The King’s House Acting After The Fire So shipwracked passengers escape to land, So look they, when on the bare beach they stand, Dropping and cold, and their first fear scarce o’er, Expecting famine on a desert shore. From that hard climate we must wait ... »

Epilogue On The Same Occasion (Princess Of Cleves) By John Dryden

Epilogue On The Same Occasion (Princess Of Cleves) By John Dryden

Epilogue On The Same Occasion (Princess Of Cleves) New ministers, when first they get in place, Must have a care to please; and that’s our case: Some laws for public welfare we design, If you, the power supreme, will please to join. There are a sort of prattlers in the pit, Who either have, or... »

The Cock And The Fox; Or, The Tale Of The Nun’s Priest By John Dryden

The Cock And The Fox; Or, The Tale Of The Nun’s Priest By John Dryden

The Cock And The Fox; Or, The Tale Of The Nun’s Priest There lived, as authors tell, in days of yore, A widow, somewhat old, and very poor; Deep in a dale her cottage lonely stood, Well thatched, and under covert of a wood. This dowager, on whom my tale I found, Since last she laid her husband... »

Mankind By John Dryden

Mankind By John Dryden

Mankind Men are but children of a larger growth; Our appetites are apt to change as theirs, And full as craving too, and full as vain; And yet the soul, shut up in her dark room, Viewing so clear abroad, at home sees nothing; But, like a mole in earth, busy and blind, Works all her folly up, and cas... »

An Ode, On The Death Of Mr. Henry Purcell By John Dryden

An Ode, On The Death Of Mr. Henry Purcell By John Dryden

An Ode, On The Death Of Mr. Henry Purcell Late Servant to his Majesty, and Organist of the Chapel Royal, and of St. Peter’s Westminster I Mark how the Lark and Linnet Sing, With rival Notes They strain their warbling Throats, To welcome in the Spring. But in the close of Night, When Philomel b... »

To The Pious Memory Of The Accomplished Young Lady Mrs. Anne Killigrew By John Dryden

To The Pious Memory Of The Accomplished Young Lady Mrs. Anne Killigrew By John Dryden

To The Pious Memory Of The Accomplished Young Lady Mrs. Anne Killigrew Thou youngest virgin-daughter of the skies, Made in the last promotion of the Blest; Whose palms, new pluck’d from Paradise, In spreading branches more sublimely rise, Rich with immortal green above the rest: Whether, adopt... »

Roundelay By John Dryden

Roundelay By John Dryden

Roundelay I. Chloe found Amyntas lying, All in tears, upon the plain, Sighing to himself, and crying, Wretched I, to love in vain! Kiss me, dear, before my dying; Kiss me once, and ease my pain. II. Sighing to himself, and crying, Wretched I, to love in vain! Ever scorning, and denying To reward you... »

Farewell, Fair Armida. A Song By John Dryden

Farewell, Fair Armida. A Song By John Dryden

Farewell, Fair Armida. A Song Farewell, fair Armida, my joy and my grief! In vain I have loved you, and hope no relief; Undone by your virtue, too strict and severe, Your eyes gave me love, and you gave me despair: Now called by my honour, I seek with content The fate which in pity you would not pre... »

Your Hay It Is Mow’d, And Your Corn Is Reap’d By John Dryden

Your Hay It Is Mow’d, And Your Corn Is Reap’d By John Dryden

Your Hay It Is Mow’D, And Your Corn Is Reap’D (Comus.) Your hay it is mow’d, and your corn is reap’d; Your barns will be full, and your hovels heap’d: Come, my boys, come; Come, my boys, come; And merrily roar out Harvest Home. (Chorus.) Come, my boys, come; Come, my bo... »

The Tears Of Amynta, For The Death Of Damon. A Song By John Dryden

The Tears Of Amynta, For The Death Of Damon. A Song By John Dryden

The Tears Of Amynta, For The Death Of Damon. A Song 1. On a bank, beside a willow, Heaven her covering, earth her pillow, Sad Amynta sigh’d alone: From the cheerless dawn of morning Till the dews of night returning, Singing thus she made her moan: Hope is banish’d, Joys are vanish’... »

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