Date: 1743

"In subtle Sophistry's laborious forge / Wit hammers out a reason new, that stoops / To sordid scenes, and greets them with applause."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1743

"Dearly pays the soul / For lodging ill; too dearly rents her clay."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1743

"We bleed, we tremble; we forget, we smile: / The mind turns fool before the cheek is dry. / Our quick-returning folly cancels all; / As the tide rushing rases what is writ / In yielding sands, and smooths the letter'd shore."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1743

"Some hearts, in secret hard, unapt to melt, / Struck by the magic of the public eye, / Like Moses' smitten rock, gush out amain."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1745

"Thus, a strange kind of cursed necessity / Brings down the sterling temper of his soul, / By base alloy, to bear the current stamp, / Below call'd Wisdom; sinks him into safety; / And brands him into credit with the world; / Where specious titles dignify disgrace, / And Nature's injuries are art...

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1745

"Imagination is the Paphian shop, / Where feeble Happiness, like Vulcan, lame, / Bids foul Ideas, in their dark recess, / And hot as hell, (which kindled the black fires,) / With wanton art, those fatal arrows form / Which murder all thy time, health, wealth, and fame."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1745

"Wouldst thou receive them, other Thoughts there are, / On angel-wing, descending from above, / Which these, with art Divine, would counterwork, / And form celestial armour for thy peace."<

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1745

"Sense is the diamond, weighty, solid, sound; / When cut by Wit, it casts a brighter beam; / Yet, Wit apart, it is a diamond still."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)