Date: 1684 [1685]

"Would I could coin my very heart to gold!"

— Dryden, John (1631-1700)

Date: 1693

"Children, like tender Oziers, take the Bow, / And, as they first are fashion'd always grow."

— Dryden, John (1631-1700) [Poem ascribed to]

Date: 1693

"The craving Wife, the force of Magick tries, / And Philters for th' unable Husband buys: / The Potion works not on the part design'd, / But turns his Brain, and stupifies his Mind. / The sotted Moon-Calf gapes, and staring on, / Sees his own Business by another done: / A long Oblivion, a benummi...

— Dryden, John (1631-1700) [Poem ascribed to]

Date: 1693

"(Yet what smooth Sycophant by thee can gain? / When Lust it self strikes thy Flint-Heart in vain?)"

— Dryden, John (1631-1700) [Poem ascribed to]

Date: 1693

"Those Senses lost, behold a new defeat; / The Soul, dislodging from another seat."

— Dryden, John (1631-1700) [Poem ascribed to]

Date: 1693

"So Fancy paints, so does the Poet write, / When he wou'd work a Tempest to the height."

— Dryden, John (1631-1700) [Poem ascribed to]

Date: 1693

"But why must those be thought to scape, that feel / Those Rods of Scorpions, and those Whips of Steel / Which Conscience shakes, when she with Rage controuls, / And spreads Amazing Terrors through their Souls?"

— Dryden, John (1631-1700) [Poem ascribed to]

Date: 1693

"When once the hard-mouth'd Horse has got the Rein, / He's past thy Pow'r to stop; Young Phaeton, / By the Wild Coursers of his Fancy drawn, / From East to North, irregularly hurl'd, / First set on Fire himself, and then the World."

— Dryden, John (1631-1700) [Poem ascribed to]

Date: 1693

"Why have I Learn'd, say'st thou, if thus confin'd, / I choak the Noble Vigour of my Mind? / Know, my wild Fig-Tree, which in Rocks is bred, / Will split the Quarry, and shoot out the Head, / Fine Fruits of Learning!"

— Dryden, John (1631-1700)

Date: 1693

"But let us for the Gods a Gift prepare, / Which the Great Man's Great Chargers cannot bear / Soul, where Laws both Humane and Divine, / In Practice more than Speculation shine: / A genuine Virtue, of a vigorous kind, / Pure in the last recesses of the Mind."

— Dryden, John (1631-1700)