Begin when the slow waggoner descends,
Nor cease your sowing till midwinter ends.
John Dryden Quotes
1631–1700 England
John Dryden (19 August [O.S. 9 August] 1631 – 12 May [O.S. 1 May] 1700) was an English poet, literary critic, translator, and playwright who in 1668 was appointed England's first Poet Laureate.
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Also known as: Dryden
537 quotes
For flax and oats will burn the tender field,
And sleepy poppies harmful harvests yield.
But various are the ways to change the state,
To plant, to bud, to graft, to inoculate.
Suffering not the yellow beards to rear,
He tramples down the spikes, and intercepts the ear.
Their morning milk the peasants press at night;
Their evening milk before the rising light.
The peaceful peasant to the wars is prest,
The fields lie fallow in inglorious rest.
Your farm requites your pains,
Though rushes overspread the neighb’ring plains.
Rocks lie cover’d with eternal snow;
Thin herbage in the plains, and fruitless fields.
T’ unload the branches, or the leaves to thin
That suck the vital moisture of the vine.
In vain the barns expect their promised load;
Nor barns at home, nor ricks are heap’d abroad.
Be mindful
With iron teeth of rakes and prongs to move
The crusted earth.
Let thy hand supply the pruning-knife,
And crop luxuriant stragglers.
Here the marshy grounds approach your fields,
And there the soil a stony harvest yields.
While the reaper fills his greedy hands,
And binds the golden sheaves in brittle bands.
Some through ambition, or through thirst of gold,
Have slain their brothers, and their country sold.
Those who to empire by dark paths aspire,
Still plead a call to what they most desire.
Why does Antony dream out his hours,
And tempts not fortune for a noble day?
Attribution
Quotes and notes from Wikiquote: John Dryden (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0.