John Dryden

Ill fortune seldom comes alone.

Ill fortune seldom comes alone.

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.

But Shakespeare's magic could not copied be;
Within that circle none durst walk but he.

But Shakespeare's magic could not copied be;
Within that circle none durst walk but he.

Be nice to people on your way up because you might meet 'em on
your way down.

Be nice to people on your way up because you might meet 'em on
your way down.

Whatever he did, was done with so much ease,
In him alone 'twas natural to please.

Whatever he did, was done with so much ease,
In him alone 'twas natural to please.