Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen, Fallen from his high estate, And welt'ring in his blood; Deserted at his utmost need, By those his former bounty fed; On the bare earth expos'd he lies, With not a friend to close his eyes.

John Dryden

John Dryden

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When Misfortune is asleep, let no one wake her. [Lat., Quando la mala ventura se duerme, nadie la despierte.]

— John Dryden

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