Maxioms by John Dryden
And all to leave what with his toil he won,
To that unfeather'd two-legged thing, a son.
And all to leave what with his toil he won,
To that unfeather'd two-legged thing, a son.
But Shakespeare's magic could not copied be;
Within that circle none durst walk but he.
But Shakespeare's magic could not copied be;
Within that circle none durst walk but he.
Beware of the fury of the patient man. -John Dryden.
Beware of the fury of the patient man. -John Dryden.
And that the Scriptures, though not everywhere
Free from corruption, or entire, or clear,
Are uncorrupt, sufficient, read more
And that the Scriptures, though not everywhere
Free from corruption, or entire, or clear,
Are uncorrupt, sufficient, clear, entire
In all things which our needful faith require.
