John Dryden

Dreams are but interludes, which fancy makes;
When monarch reason sleeps, this mimic wakes.

Dreams are but interludes, which fancy makes;
When monarch reason sleeps, this mimic wakes.

To take up half on trust, and half to try,
Name it not faith but bungling bigotry.

To take up half on trust, and half to try,
Name it not faith but bungling bigotry.

Thespis, the first professor of our art,
At country wakes snug ballads from a cart.

Thespis, the first professor of our art,
At country wakes snug ballads from a cart.

And after hearing what our Church can say,
If still our reason runs another way,
That private read more

And after hearing what our Church can say,
If still our reason runs another way,
That private reason 'tis more just to curb,
Than by disputes the public peace disturb;
For points obscure are of small use to learn,
But common quiet is mankind's concern.

You know I met you,
Kist you, and prest you close within my arms,
With all the read more

You know I met you,
Kist you, and prest you close within my arms,
With all the tenderness of wifely love.