Date: April 18, 1721

"Must I despair then? Do not shake me thus: / My Tempest-beaten Heart is cold to Death."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1742

"Through chinks, styled organs, dim Life peeps at light; / Death bursts the' involving cloud, and all is day; / All eye, all ear, the disembodied power."

— 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

"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: 1743

"The world excluded, every passion hush'd, / And open'd a calm intercourse with Heaven, / Here the soul sits in council; ponders past, / Predestines future action; sees, not feels, / Tumultuous life, and reasons with the storm; / All her lies answers, and thinks down her charms."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1743

"See, from her tomb, as from an humble shrine, / Truth, radiant goddess, sallies on my soul, / And puts Delusion's dusky train to flight; / Dispels the mists our sultry passions raise, / From objects low, terrestrial, and obscene."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1744

"In Lust's dominion, and in Passion's storm, / Truth's system broken, scatter'd fragments lay: / (As light in chaos, glimmering through the gloom)."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1744

"And are you, too, convinced your souls fly off / In exhalation soft, and die in air, / From the full flood of evidence against you?"

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1744

"Eternity's vast ocean lies before thee; / There, there, Lorenzo, thy Clarissa sails. / Give thy mind sea-room; keep it wide of earth, / That rock of souls immortal; cut thy cord; / Weigh anchor; spread thy sails; call every wind; / Eye thy great Pole-star; make the land of life."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1745

"All, more or less, against each other dash, / To mutual hurt by gusts of passion driven, / And suffering more from Folly than from Fate."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)