Date: 1742

"O how self-fetter'd was my grovelling soul!"

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1742

"How, like a worm, was I wrapt round and round / In silken thought, which reptile Fancy spun, / Till darken'd Reason lay quite clouded o'er / With soft conceit of endless comfort here, / Nor yet put forth her wings to reach the skies!"

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1742

"In every varied posture, place, and hour, / How widow'd every thought of every joy!"

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1742

"So bounded are its haughty lord's delights / To Woe's wide empire; where deep troubles toss, / Loud sorrows howl, envenom'd passions bite, / Ravenous calamities our vitals seize, / And threatening fate wide opens to devour."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1742

"All men think all men mortal but themselves; / Themselves, when some alarming shock of Fate / Strikes through their wounded hearts the sudden dread."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1742

"But their hearts wounded, like the wounded air, / Soon close; where pass'd the shaft, no trace is found. / As from the wing no scar the sky retains, / The parted wave no furrow from the keel, / So dies in human hearts the thought of death."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1743

"Imagination's fool, and Error's wretch, / Man makes a Death which Nature never made; / Then on the point of his own fancy falls, / And feels a thousand deaths in fearing one."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1743

"A time there is, when, like a thrice-told tale, / Long-rifled Life of sweet can yield no more, / But from our comment on the comedy, / Pleasing reflections on parts well-sustain'd, / Or purposed emendations where we fail'd, / Or hopes of plaudits from our candid Judge, / When, on their exit, sou...

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1743

"Death's admonitions, like shafts upwards shot, / More dreadful by delay,--the longer ere / They strike our hearts, the deeper is their wound."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1743

"O think how deep, Lorenzo! here it stings: / Who can appease its anguish? How it burns! / What hand the barb'd, envenom'd thought can draw?"

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)