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So Softly Death Succeeded Life In Her, She Did But Dream Of Heaven, And She Was There.
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So softly death succeeded life in her,
She did but dream of heaven, and she was there.
-- John Dryden (1631-1700)
-- Eleonora, Line 315
Related:
Here lies my wife: her let her lie! Now she's at rest, and so am I.
-- John Dryden, epitaph intended for his wife...
She knows her man, and when you rant and swear, Can draw you to her with a single hair.
-- John Dryden (1631-1700) -- Persius, Satire v, Line 246...
He rais'd a mortal to the skies, She drew an angel down.
-- John Dryden (1631-1700) -- Alexander's Feast, Line 169...
She hugg'd the offender, and forgave the offence: Sex to the last.
-- John Dryden (1631-1700) -- Cymon and Iphigenia, Line 367...
I can enjoy her while she 's kind; But when she dances in the wind, And shakes the wings and will not stay, I puff the prostitute away.
-- John Dryden (1631-1700) -- Imitation of Horace, Book iii, Ode 29, Line 81...
It is now sixteen or seventeen years since I saw the Queen of France, then the Dauphiness, at Versaille
and surely never lighted on this orb, which she hardly seemed to touch, a more delightful vision....
The Poet Whose Badness Saved His Life The most important poet in the seventeenth century was George Wither.
Alexander Pope called him "wretched Wither" and Dryden said of his verse that "if they rhymed and rattled all was well"....
She states that her husband took downers and she took uppers so the relationship did not work out.
To her, love was like the air of heaven- invisible, intangible
it yet encircled her soul, and she knew it; for in it was her life. -- Miss M'Intosh...