John Dryden

A fiery soul, which, working out its way,
Fretted the pygmy-body to decay,
And o'er-informed the tenement read more

A fiery soul, which, working out its way,
Fretted the pygmy-body to decay,
And o'er-informed the tenement of clay.

The brave man seeks not popular applause,
Nor, overpower'd with arms, deserts his cause;
Unsham'd, though foil'd, read more

The brave man seeks not popular applause,
Nor, overpower'd with arms, deserts his cause;
Unsham'd, though foil'd, he does the best he can,
Force is of brutes, but honor is of man.

But far more numerous was the herd of such,
Who think too little, and who talk too much.

But far more numerous was the herd of such,
Who think too little, and who talk too much.

Tomorrow do thy worst, I have lived today.

Tomorrow do thy worst, I have lived today.

Long stood the noble youth oppress'd with awe,
And stupid at the wondrous things he saw,
Surpassing read more

Long stood the noble youth oppress'd with awe,
And stupid at the wondrous things he saw,
Surpassing common faith, transgressing nature's law.