Date: 1743

"Reason, a baffled counsellor, but adds / The blush of weakness to the bane of woe."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1743

"The noblest spirit, fighting her hard fate / In this damp, dusky region, charged with storms, / But feebly flutters, yet untaught to fly; / Or, flying, short her flight, and sure her fall."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1743

"This forager on others' wisdom, leaves / Her native farm, her reason, quite untill'd."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1743

"It pleads exemption from the laws of Sense; / Considers Reason as a leveller; / And scorns to share a blessing with the crowd."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1743

"When Sorrow wounds the breast, as ploughs the glebe, / And hearts obdurate feel her softening shower; / Her seed celestial, then, glad Wisdom sows; / Her golden harvest triumphs in the soil."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1743

"I'll range the plenteous intellectual field; / And gather every thought of sovereign power, / To chase the moral maladies of man; / Thoughts which may bear transplanting to the skies, / Though natives of this coarse penurious soil; / Nor wholly wither there, where seraphs sing, / Refined, exalte...

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1743

"Mistaken kindness! our hearts heal too soon. / Are they more kind than He who struck the blow, / Who bid it do His errand in our hearts, / And banish peace, till nobler guests arrive, / And bring it back a true and endless peace?"

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1743

"Calamities are friends: as glaring day / Of these unnumber'd lustres robs our sight, / Prosperity puts out unnumber'd thoughts / Of import high, and light Divine, to man."

— 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: 1743

"Why are friends ravish'd from us? 'Tis to bind, / By soft Affection's ties, on human hearts, / The thought of death, which Reason, too supine, / Or misemploy'd, so rarely fastens there."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)