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Thespis, The First Professor Of Our Art, At Country Wakes Sung Ballads From A Cart.
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Thespis, the first professor of our art,
At country wakes sung ballads from a cart.
-- John Dryden (1631-1700)
-- Prologue to Lee's Sophonisba
Related:
War, he sung, is toil and trouble; Honour but an empty bubble. -- Dryden, John (1631-1700)
But Shakespeare's magic could not copied be; Within that circle none durst walk but he.
-- John Dryden (1631-1700) -- The Tempest, Prologue...
An horrible stilness first invades our ear, And in that silence we the tempest fear.
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Errors, like straws, upon the surface flow; He who would search for pearls must dive below.
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For Art may err, but Nature cannot miss.
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True patriots all; for be it understood We left our country for our country's good.
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Set the cart before the horse. -- John Heywood
Our souls sit close and silently within, And their own web from their own entrails spi
And when eyes meet far off, our sense is such, That, spider-like, we feel the tenderest touch....