Be fair or foul or rain or shine
The joys I have possessed, in spite of fate, are mine.
Here, a speaker highlights that finding happiness within a situation where one lacks control can be as joyful, if not more, than having control over a situation. Rather than dwell on changing the past or living in regret, the speaker advocates seeking happiness in fleeting moments, whether in joyful or sorrowful situations. Throughout the work, the speaker stresses that the vicissitudes of life are unavoidable, and should therefore not be allowed to detract from life's joys. These arguments reflect the emphasis on reason within Dryden's work as a whole. Even when discussing a concept as slippery and subjective as human emotion, Dryden considers the most rational way to respond, acknowledging the inevitability of suffering while seeking to rationally respond to it.
And Medalls grav’d, their Conquest to record,
The Stamp and Coyn of their adopted Lord.
Here, Dryden describes, and condemns, events following the Earl of Shaftesbury's treason trial in 1681. After Shaftesbury's acquittal, his Whig allies celebrated by carving his likeness on a medal. The melodic consistency of Dryden's heroic couplets creates a humorous, ironic contrast with the chaos he describes, which makes the Whig celebration appear especially unserious and childish. Moreover, by referring to Shaftesbury as an "adopted" lord, Dryden refers to and riffs upon the very succession crisis that instigated the series of events in question: Shaftesbury has tried to install an illegitimate heir on the throne, and Dryden now suggests that he is himself an illegitimate inheritor of political glory and authority.
In pious times, ere priest-craft did begin, Before polygamy was made a sin;
When man, on many, multipli'd his kind, Ere one to one was cursedly confin'd:
These opening lines of Absalom and Achitophel depict the ancient world as one primarily dictated by instinct, in contrast to a rule-bound modern world. Thus, even while using a biblical allegory to describe a modern succession crisis, Dryden underscores the differences between the biblical and the modern context. He suggests that contemporary life involves checks on passion in the form of institutions like monogamy and religious hierarchy, the presence of which are intended to prevent crises and conflicts like the one detailed in the poem. Thus the actual conflict between the King and the Earl of Shaftesbury, for which this poem is an allegory, appears all the more exceptional and unacceptable.
Impatient of high hopes, urg'd with renown, And fir'd with near possession of a crown:
These lines describe the emotional state of Achitophel, overcome by ambition as he attempts to take control of the throne. Dryden describes the way that his anticipation of future glory overtakes his rationality, urging him inexorably toward an improper and harmful course of action. In fact, Dryden's work often touches on the addictive, exhilarating power of conquest and desire, whether sexual or political. The sheer nearness of power for Achitophel is dangerous, prompting him to act in any way necessary in order to close the gap between himself and the crown.
Sooth'd with the sound, the king grew vain;
Fought all his battles o'er again,
And thrice he routed all his foes, and thrice he slew the slain!
This poem describes a musician's ability to manipulate Alexander the Great, affecting the monarch emotionally with music to such a dramatic degree that Alexander loses control over his political strategy. Dryden playfully varies his own poetic meter here, both calling attention to the impact that rhythm and music can have on a listener and mimicking the unpredictability and chaos described in the poem. Here, two lines of iambic tetrameter are followed by a third, unexpected line of iambic heptameter. In other words, Dryden begins with lines containing four sets of two-syllable iambs, but shifts to a much longer line with seven iambs. This creates a feeling of surprise, because the reader begins the third of these lines expecting to encounter yet another line of heptameter. This expectation holds for the line's first four iambs, after which a comma marks a turn. The end of the line, however, contains another three unexpected iambs. Through this playful subversion of expectations, Dryden imitates the events of the poem, in which music and rhythm subvert an expected series of events.
More great than human now, and more August,
New deified she from her Fires does rise:
Her widening Streets on new Foundations trust,
And, opening, into larger parts she flies.
This passage personifies the city of London recovering from the catastrophic fire of 1666. Here, Dryden imagines the fire as a frightening but ultimately cleansing or redemptive force. The process of recovery, as he describes it, is not merely a question of overcoming damage, but instead involves an almost alchemical turn that causes the city to become more glorious than before. Dryden's decision to use quatrains with an ABAB rhyme scheme, rather than his signature heroic couplets, adds to the narrative intensity of these descriptions. The rhymes of this poem take longer to resolve than those in works like The Medal, which creates suspense and drama.
But Shad--- never deviates into Sence;
Some Beams of Wit on other Souls may fall,
Strike through, and make a Lucid Interval;
But Shad--- Genuine Night admits no Ray,
This passage illuminates Dryden's satirical strategy of ironically using exaggerated, lofty language. At first glance, Dryden appears to be praising Shadwell (or, as he is referred to here, Shad---). He describes the poet's unusual ability to avoid sense, wit, and lucidity as impressive, indicating a certain success on Shadwell's part. Of course, these praises are not compliments in any real sense—rather, Dryden is remarking upon his rival's lack of talent or eloquence, and stressing the extent of that lack by portraying him as impressively, remarkably untalented. Meanwhile, Dryden's juxtaposition of the lofty and the ridiculous, as well as his command of sarcasm, serves to highlight his own wit, making Shadwell appear all the more untalented by contrast.
But satire needs not those, and wit will shine
Through the harsh cadence of a rugged line.
In these lines Dryden articulates a theory of satire, arguing that perfect eloquence or command of language are less important than underlying intellectual and creative intelligence. As in the above quote from Mac Flecknoe, Dryden metaphorically equates wit with light, suggesting that true intelligence has the ability to illuminate and clarify reality. While elegant language can accelerate and ease this process, it is not essential, Dryden suggests here. Rather, the illuminating effects of an intelligent mind can persist even if imperfect poetic language impedes it somewhat. By focusing on the demands of satire in particular, Dryden also underscores the similarities between himself and Oldham as two satirists.
The trumpet shall be heard on high,
The dead shall live, the living die,
The closing passages of "A Song for St. Cecilia's Day" blend two major focuses of Dryden's work: religious ritual and the power of the arts. In an apocalyptic scenario, Dryden suggests, music will offer a form of sense and beauty even amid tumult. Meanwhile, the meter and diction of these lines mimic both the mood and the music of the scenario being described. Dryden uses short, clipped syllables in the first line, packing in abrupt sounds like T and D to imitate the blasts of a trumpet. Meanwhile, the second of these two lines uses more luxuriant L and V sounds, releasing some of the tensions built up in the previous line. The parallelism between the clauses "the dead shall live" and "the living die," separated by a single comma, emphasizes the carnivalesque reversals within this end-of-days scenario.
Before the Word was written, said the Hind
Our Saviour preached his Faith to humane kind;
In Dryden's allegorical depiction, the debate between the Hind and the Panther represents the conflict between Catholicism and Anglicanism. Here, the two discuss one of the major divides between the two branches of Christianity—namely, the Protestant doctrine locating authority solely in scripture, as opposed to the Catholic one locating authority within oral tradition as well as scripture. Here the Hind defends the Catholic position by pointing out that Christian biblical texts were themselves originally oral. For Dryden, who tended in his work to defend that which was unchanging or long-established, this distinction is important. The place of oral tradition in early Christianity, from Dryden's perspective, brings Catholicism closer to the religion's original form.
Thy father was transfus'd into thy blood:
So wert thou born into the tuneful strain,
Throughout his writing, Dryden is concerned with the question of proper succession and inheritance. Whereas he mocks Shadwell by referring to him as Richard Flecknoe's heir in "Mac Flecknoe," here he praises Anne Killigrew by noting that she is part of an illustrious artistic lineage. While these lines refer to Killigrew's literal family, Dryden will go on in a more figurative vein, describing her as heir to a legacy of poetry that extends to ancient Greece. By praising Killigrew as a rightful successor to these figures—whether her own father or the Greek poet Sappho—Dryden legitimizes her more recent work.
