21 Quotes by William Drummond

The last and greatest herald of Heaven's King, / Girt with rough skins, hies to the deserts wild.

He that will not reason is a bigot; he that cannot reason is a fool; he that dares not reason is a slave

My thoughts hold mortal strife, I do detest my life, And with lamenting cries, Peace to my soul to bring, Oft calls that prince which here doth monarchize; But he, grim-grinning king, Who caitiffs scorns and doth the blest surprise, Late having deck'd with beauty's rose his tomb, Disdains to crop a weed, and will not come.

Thrice happy he, who by some shady grove, Far from the clamorous world; doth live his own; Though solitary, who is not alone, But doth converse with that eternal love.

Sleep, Silence's child, sweet father of soft rest, Prince whose approach peace to all mortals brings Indifferent host to shepherds and kings Sole comforter to minds with grief oppressed.

What sweet delight a quiet life affords.

So that my life be brave, what though not long?

Sleep, Silence’s child, sweet father of soft rest, Prince whose approach peace to all mortals brings Indifferent host to shepherds and kings Sole comforter to minds with grief oppressed.

He that will not reason is a bigot; he that cannot reason is a fool; and he that dares not reason is a slave.