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)