John Dryden

When he spoke, what tender words he used! So softly, that like flakes of feathered snow, They melted as they read more

When he spoke, what tender words he used! So softly, that like flakes of feathered snow, They melted as they fell.

Tomorrow do thy worst, I have lived today.

Tomorrow do thy worst, I have lived today.

Old as I am, for ladies' love unfit,
The power of beauty I remember yet,
Which once read more

Old as I am, for ladies' love unfit,
The power of beauty I remember yet,
Which once inflam'd my soul, and still inspires my wit.

At home the hateful names of parties cease,
And factious souls are wearied into peace.

At home the hateful names of parties cease,
And factious souls are wearied into peace.

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.