Fool that I was, upon my eagle's wings I bore this wren, till I was tired with soaring, and now he mounts above me.
John DrydenI strongly wish for what I faintly hope; like the daydreams of melancholy men, I think and think in things impossible, yet love to wander in that golden maze.
John DrydenFortune's unjust; she ruins oft the brave, and him who should be victor, makes the slave.
John Dryden