"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)
Since joys of Sense can't rise to Reason's taste,
In subtle Sophistry's laborious forge
Wit hammers out a reason new, that stoops
To sordid scenes, and greets them with applause.
Wit calls the Graces the chaste zone to loose,
Nor less than a plump god to fill the bowl;
A thousand phantoms, and a thousand spells,
A thousand opiates scatters to delude,
To fascinate, inebriate, lay asleep,
And the fool'd mind delightfully confound.
Thus that which shock'd the Judgment, shocks no more;
That which gave Pride offence, no more offends.
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.
Art, cursed Art! wipes off the' indebted blush
From Nature's cheek, and bronzes every shame.
Man smiles in ruin, glories in his guilt,
And Infamy stands candidate for praise.
(ll. 25-46, pp. 117-8 in CUP edition)
See The Complaint. Or, Night-Thoughts on Life Death, & Immortality. Night the Fifth. (London: R. Dodsley, 1743). <Link to ECCO>
Text from The Complete Works, Poetry and Prose, of the Rev. Edward Young, LL.D., 2 vols. (London: William Tegg, 1854). <Link to Google Books>
Reading Edward Young, Night Thoughts, ed. Stephen Cornford (New York: Cambridge UP, 1989).