Date: 1727, 1728

A young man may be "Possess'd of every virtue, grace, and art, / That claims just empire o'er the female heart"

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1742

"It makes us wander; wander earth around / To fly that tyrant, Thought."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1742

"Lorenzo! no; the thought of death indulge; / Give it its wholesome empire! let it reign, / That kind chastiser of thy soul in joy!"

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1742

"Its reign will spread thy glorious conquests far, / And still the tumults of thy ruffled breast: / Auspicious era! golden days, begin!"

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1742

"Is not the mighty mind, that son of heaven, / By tyrant Life dethroned, imprison'd, pain'd? / By Death enlarged, ennobled, deified? / Death but entombs the body; Life, the soul."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1742

"While o'er my limbs Sleep's soft dominion spread, / What though my soul fantastic measures trod / O'er fairy fields; or mourn'd along the gloom / Of pathless woods; or, down the craggy steep / Hurl'd headlong, swam with pain the mantled pool; / Or scaled the cliff; or danced on hollow winds, / W...

— 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: 1743

"Pleasure and Pride, by nature mortal foes, / At war eternal which in man shall reign, / By Wit's address, patch up a fatal peace, / And hand in hand lead on the rank debauch, / From rank refined to delicate and gay."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1743

"Darkness has more divinity for me: / It strikes thought inward; it drives back the soul / To settle on herself, our point supreme! / There lies our theatre; there sits our judge."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1743

"Darkness the curtain drops o'er life's dull scene; / 'Tis the kind hand of Providence stretch'd out / 'Twixt man and vanity; 'tis Reason's reign, / And Virtue's too; these tutelary shades / Are man's asylum from the tainted throng."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)