John Dryden

[John Henry Dryden] (1631 - 1700 / England)

Comments about John Dryden

  • Georgie (6/22/2019 4:28:00 PM)

    Hello anyone who is reading! I was looking at my family tree recently, and discovered I was related to Dryden. I am now discovering his work. From Dryden's descendant let's hope the legacy lives on!

    3 person liked.
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  • The real boi (11/5/2018 11:31:00 AM)

    These poems are down to earth and make me wet

    4 person liked.
    4 person did not like.
  • sexy monster (11/5/2018 11:31:00 AM)

    this poem is really really cute

    4 person liked.
    3 person did not like.
  • Rajkumari (10/5/2018 10:35:00 AM)

    Beautiful

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  • Shaheeda (5/27/2018 7:41:00 PM)

    Listen the poem

    3 person liked.
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  • Rajkumar (3/7/2018 10:05:00 AM)

    Very useful

    2 person liked.
    4 person did not like.
  • JoyCe Earl (1/21/2018 9:25:00 PM)

    BeAUtIfUl *********************************************************************************************************************

    4 person liked.
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  • Alem Hailu G/kristos Alem Hailu G/kristos (8/9/2016 9:36:00 AM)

    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,

    what lines!

    6 person liked.
    4 person did not like.
Best Poem of John Dryden

Dreams

Dreams are but interludes which Fancy makes;
When monarch Reason sleeps, this mimic wakes:
Compounds a medley of disjointed things,
A mob of cobblers, and a court of kings:
Light fumes are merry, grosser fumes are sad;
Both are the reasonable soul run mad;
And many monstrous forms in sleep we see,
That neither were, nor are, nor e'er can be.
Sometimes forgotten things long cast behind
Rush forward in the brain, and come to mind.
The nurse's legends are for truths received,
And the man dreams but what the boy believed.
Sometimes we but rehearse a former ...

Read the full of Dreams

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,
Rich with immortal green, above the rest:
Whether, adopted to some neighbouring star,