“Farewell, ungrateful traitor, Farewell, my perjured swain;Let never injured creature Believe a man again.The pleasure of possessingSurpasses all expressing,But 'tis too short a blessing, And love too long a pain.'Tis easy to deceive us In pity of your pain;But when we love you leave us To rail at you in vain.Before we have descried itThere is no bliss beside it,But she that once has tried it Will never love again.The passion we pretended Was only to obtain,But when the charm is ended The charmer you disdain.Your love by ours we measureTill we have lost our treasure,But dying is a pleasure When living is a pain.”
“Farewell, ungrateful traitor, Farewell, my perjured swain;Let never injured creature Believe a man again.The pleasure of possessingSurpasses all expressing,But 'tis too short a blessing, And love too long a pain.'Tis easy to deceive us In pity of your pain;But when we love you leave us To rail at you in vain.Before we have descried itThere is no bliss beside it,But she that once has tried it Will never love again.The passion we pretended Was only to obtain,But when the charm is ended The charmer you disdain.Your love by ours we measureTill we have lost our treasure,But dying is a pleasure When living is a pain.”
John Dryden
“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.”
John Dryden, The critical and miscellaneous prose works of John Dryden, now first collected“Thus like a Captive in an Isle confin'd,Man walks at large, a Pris'ner of the Mind”
John Dryden, Four Plays by Dryden: The Conquest of Granada parts 1 and 2, Marriage-a-la-Mode, and The Assignation“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.”
John Dryden“Anger will never disappear so long as thoughts of resentment are cherished in the mind. Anger will disappear just as soon as thoughts of resentment are forgotten.”
John Dryden“The intoxication of anger, like that of the grape, shows us to others, but hides us from ourselves.”
John Dryden“Dancing is the poetry of the foot.”
John Dryden“And plenty makes us poor.”
John Dryden“Beauty, like ice, our footing does betray; Who can tread sure on the smooth, slippery way: Pleased with the surface, we glide swiftly on, And see the dangers that we cannot shun.”
John Dryden“Jealousy is the jaundice of the soul.”
John Dryden“Forgiveness to the injured does belong but they ne'er pardon who have done wrong. ”
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