John Bartlett (1820–1905). Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. 1919.
Page 274
| John Dryden. (1631–1700) (continued) |
| 2986 |
| Not heaven itself upon the past has power; But what has been, has been, and I have had my hour. |
| Imitation of Horace. Book iii. Ode 29, Line 71. |
| 2987 |
| I can enjoy her while she ’s kind; But when she dances in the wind, And shakes the wings and will not stay, I puff the prostitute away. |
| Imitation of Horace. Book iii. Ode 29, Line 81. |
| 2988 |
| And virtue, though in rags, will keep me warm. |
| Imitation of Horace. Book iii. Ode 29, Line 87. |
| 2989 |
| Arms and the man I sing, who, forced by fate And haughty Juno’s unrelenting hate. |
| Virgil, Æneid. Line 1. |
| 2990 |
| And new-laid eggs, which Baucis’ busy care Turn’d by a gentle fire and roasted rare. 1 |
| Ovid, Metamorphoses, Book viii. Baucis and Philemon, Line 97. |
| 2991 |
| Ill habits gather by unseen degrees,— As brooks make rivers, rivers run to seas. |
| Book xv. The Worship of Æsculapius, Line 155. |
| 2992 |
| She knows her man, and when you rant and swear, Can draw you to her with a single hair. 2 |
| Persius. Satire v. Line 246. |
| 2993 |
| Look round the habitable world: how few Know their own good, or knowing it, pursue. |
| Juvenal. Satire x. |
| 2994 |
| 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. 3 |
| Mariage à la Mode. Act ii. Sc. 1. |
| 2995 |
| Thespis, the first professor of our art, At country wakes sung ballads from a cart. |
| Prologue to Lee’s Sophonisba. |
| Note 1. Our scanty mutton scrags on Fridays, and rather more savoury, but grudging, portions of the same flesh, rotten-roasted or rare, on the Tuesdays.—Charles Lamb: Christ’s Hospital five-and-thirty Years Ago. [back] |
| Note 2. See Burton, Quotation 66. [back] |
| Note 3. See Davies, Quotation 1. [back] |