| John Bartlett (18201905). Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. 1919. |
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| Page 276 |
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| | | John Dryden. (16311700) (continued) |
| | | 3006 | Death in itself is nothing; but we fear To be we know not what, we know not where. |
| Aurengzebe. Act iv. Sc. 1. |
| 3007 | When I consider life, t is all a cheat. Yet foold with hope, men favour the deceit; Trust on, and think to-morrow will repay. To-morrow s falser than the former day; Lies worse, and while it says we shall be blest With some new joys, cuts off what we possest. Strange cozenage! none would live past years again, Yet all hope pleasure in what yet remain; 1 And from the dregs of life think to receive What the first sprightly running could not give. |
| Aurengzebe. Act iv. Sc. 1. |
| 3008 | T is not for nothing that we life pursue; It pays our hopes with something still that s new. |
| Aurengzebe. Act iv. Sc. 1. |
| 3009 | | All delays are dangerous in war. |
| Tyrannic Love. Act i. Sc. 1. |
| 3010 | Pains of love be sweeter far Than all other pleasures are. |
| Tyrannic Love. Act iv. Sc. 1. |
| 3011 | | Whatever is, is in its causes just. 2 |
| dipus. Act iii. Sc. 1. |
| 3012 | His hair just grizzled, As in a green old age. 3 |
| dipus. Act iii. Sc. 1. |
| 3013 | Of no distemper, of no blast he died, But fell like autumn fruit that mellowd long, Even wonderd at, because he droppd no sooner. Fate seemd to wind him up for fourscore years, Yet freshly ran he on ten winters more; Till like a clock worn out with eating time, The wheels of weary life at last stood still. |
| dipus. Act iv. Sc. 1. |
| 3014 | She, though in full-blown flower of glorious beauty, Grows cold even in the summer of her age. |
| dipus. Act iv. Sc. 1. |
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