John Dryden

The monarch oak, the patriarch of the trees,
Shoots rising up, and spreads by slow degrees.
Three read more

The monarch oak, the patriarch of the trees,
Shoots rising up, and spreads by slow degrees.
Three centuries he grows, and three he stays
Supreme in state; and in three more decays.

I am as free as nature first made man,
Ere the base laws of servitude began,
When read more

I am as free as nature first made man,
Ere the base laws of servitude began,
When wild in woods the noble savage ran.

At every close she made, th' attending throng
Replied, and bore the burden of the song:
So read more

At every close she made, th' attending throng
Replied, and bore the burden of the song:
So just, so small, yet in so sweet a note,
It seemed the music melted in the throat.

As when the dove returning bore the mark
Of earth restored to the long labouring ark;
The read more

As when the dove returning bore the mark
Of earth restored to the long labouring ark;
The relics of mankind, secure at rest,
Open every window to receive the guest,
And the fair bearer of the message bless'd.

A knock-down argument; 'tis but a word and a blow.

A knock-down argument; 'tis but a word and a blow.