Date: April 18, 1721

"He's gone, and now / I must unsluice my overburden'd Heart, / And let it flow."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1742

"Had thought been all, sweet speech had been denied; / Speech, thought's canal! speech, thought's criterion too!"

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1742

"'Tis thought's exchange which, like the' alternate push / Of waves conflicting, breaks the learned scum, / And defecates the student's standing pool."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1742

"Beware the counterfeit: in Passion's flame / Hearts melt; but melt like ice, soon harder froze."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1742

"I wake, emerging from a sea of dreams / Tumultuous; where my wreck'd desponding thought, / From wave to wave of fancied misery, / At random drove, her helm of reason lost."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1742

"A soul immortal, spending all her fires, / Wasting her strength in strenuous idleness, / Thrown into tumult, raptured, or alarm'd, / At aught this scene can threaten, or indulge, / Resembles ocean into tempest wrought, / To waft a feather, or to drown a fly."

— 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

"He, the great Father, kindled at one flame / The world of rationals; one spirit pour'd / From Spirit's awful fountain; pour'd Himself / Through all their souls; but not in equal stream."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1743

"Thought borrows light elsewhere; from that first fire, / Fountain of animation, whence descends / Urania, my celestial guest!"

— 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)