The Satires of Dryden: Absalom and Achitophel, The Medal, Mac Flecknoe, Edited with Memoir

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Macmillan and Company, limited, 1923 - 137 strani
 

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Stran 8 - 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; Else, why should he, with wealth and honour blest, Refuse his age the needful hours of rest?
Stran 19 - 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.
Stran 98 - He saw ; but blasted with excess of light. Closed his eyes in endless night. Behold, where Dryden's less presumptuous car, Wide o'er the fields of glory bear Two coursers of ethereal race, With necks in thunder clothed, and long-resounding pace.
Stran 85 - 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.
Stran 98 - Waller was smooth; but Dryden taught to join The varying verse, the full resounding line, The long majestic march, and energy divine.
Stran 32 - Heaven preserve my years, But save me most from my petitioners. Unsatiate as the barren womb or grave, God cannot grant so much as they can crave.
Stran 4 - Promiscuous use of concubine and bride, Then Israel's monarch after Heaven's own heart His vigorous warmth did variously impart To wives and slaves, and, wide as his command, Scattered his Maker's image through the land.
Stran 87 - And in his father's right and realm's defence, Ne'er to have peace with wit nor truce with sense. The king himself the sacred unction made, As king by office and as priest by trade. In his sinister hand, instead of ball, He placed a mighty mug of potent ale;
Stran 9 - With public zeal to cancel private crimes : How safe is treason, and how sacred ill, Where none can sin against the people's will: Where crowds can wink ; and no offence be known, Since in another's guilt they find their own.
Stran 23 - Thus form'd by nature, furnish'd out with arts, He glides unfelt into their secret hearts. Then, with a kind compassionating look, And sighs, bespeaking pity ere he spoke, Few words he said; but easy those and fit, More slow than Hybla-drops, and far more sweet.

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