Maxioms by John Dryden
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.
Content with poverty, my soul I arm;
And virtue, though in rags, will keep me warm.
Content with poverty, my soul I arm;
And virtue, though in rags, will keep me warm.
He who trusts secrets to a servant makes him his master.
He who trusts secrets to a servant makes him his master.
Ill fortune seldom comes alone.
Ill fortune seldom comes alone.
Him of the western dome, whose weighty sense
Flows in fit words and heavenly eloquence.
Him of the western dome, whose weighty sense
Flows in fit words and heavenly eloquence.
