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John Dryden (Джон Драйден)


* * *


You charm'd me not with that fair face
Though it was all divine:
To be another's is the grace,
That makes me wish you mine.

The Gods and Fortune take their part
Who like young monarchs fight;
And boldly dare invade that heart
Which is another's right.

First mad with hope we undertake
To pull up every bar;
But once possess'd, we faintly make
A dull defensive war.

Now every friend is turn'd a foe
In hope to get our store:
And passion makes us cowards grow,
Which made us brave before. 



John Dryden's other poems:
  1. On Mrs. Margaret Paston, of Barningham, in Norfolk
  2. On the Monument of the Marquis of Winchester
  3. To John Hoddesdon, on his Divine Epigrams
  4. Upon Young Mr. Rogers, of Gloucestershire
  5. The Tears of Amynta for the Death of Damon


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