John Dryden

For your ignorance is the mother of your devotion to me.

For your ignorance is the mother of your devotion to me.

Our souls sit close and silently within,
And their own web from their own entrails spin;
And read more

Our souls sit close and silently within,
And their own web from their own entrails spin;
And when eyes meet far off, our sense is such,
That, spider like, we feel the tenderest touch.

Deserted, at his utmost need,
By those his former bounty fed;
On the bare earth exposed he read more

Deserted, at his utmost need,
By those his former bounty fed;
On the bare earth exposed he lies,
With not a friend to close his eyes.

Beware the fury of a patient man.

Beware the fury of a patient man.

Great wits are sure to madness near allied,
And thin partitions do their bounds divide.

Great wits are sure to madness near allied,
And thin partitions do their bounds divide.