John Dryden

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.

The clouds dispell'd, the sky resum'd her light,
And Nature stood recover'd of her fright.
But fear, read more

The clouds dispell'd, the sky resum'd her light,
And Nature stood recover'd of her fright.
But fear, the last of ills, remain'd behind,
And horrow heavy sat on every mind.

Whistling to keep myself from being afraid.

Whistling to keep myself from being afraid.

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.

Lord of oneself, uncumbered with a name.

Lord of oneself, uncumbered with a name.