Song From Marriage-A-La-Mode by John Dryden

"POETS, like lawful monarchs, ruled the stage, Till critics, like damn'd Whigs, debauch'd our age. Mark how they jump: critics would regulate Our theat"

"'Tis hard, my friend, to write in such an age, As damns, not only poets, but the stage. That sacred art, by Heaven itself infused, Which Moses, David,"

"A Pastoral Elegy.         'Twas on a joyless and a gloomy morn,         Wet was the grass, and hung with pearls the thorn;         When Damon, wh"

"On His Learned And Useful Works; But More Particularly His Treatise Of Stonehenge,[1] By Him Restored To The True Founder.         The longest tyra"

"The ocean heaves around us still With long and measured swell, The autumn gales our canvas fill, Our ship rides smooth and well. The broad Atlantic's"

"I have a rendezvous with Death At some disputed barricade, When Spring comes back with rustling shade And apple-blossoms fill the air— I have a rendez"