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)

Date: 1743

"Is this the cause Death flies all human thought? / Or is it Judgment by the Will struck blind, / (That domineering mistress of the soul,) / Like him so strong, by Delilah the fair?"

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1743

"The bad, on each punctilious pique of Pride, / Or gloom of Humour, would give Rage the rein, / Bound o'er the barrier, rush into the dark, / And mar the schemes of Providence below."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1743

"No; in pity sent, / To melt him down, like wax, and then impress, / Indelible, Death's image on his heart; / Bleeding for others, trembling for himself."

— 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)

Date: 1743

"Our funeral tears from different causes rise. / As if from separate cisterns in the soul, / Of various kinds, they flow."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1743

"Some hearts, in secret hard, unapt to melt, / Struck by the magic of the public eye, / Like Moses' smitten rock, gush out amain."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1743

"Passion, blind Passion, impotently pours / Tears that deserve more tears, while Reason sleeps, / Or gazes, like an idiot, unconcern'd, / Nor comprehends the meaning of the storm."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1743

"Though grey our heads, our thoughts and aims are green; / Like damaged clocks, whose hand and bell dissent; / Folly sings six, while Nature points at twelve."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1743

"That thought is the machine, / The grand machine that heaves us from the dust, / And rears us into men!"

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)