Date: 1743

"Imagination's fool, and Error's wretch, / Man makes a Death which Nature never made; / Then on the point of his own fancy falls, / And feels a thousand deaths in fearing one."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1743

"Death's admonitions, like shafts upwards shot, / More dreadful by delay,--the longer ere / They strike our hearts, the deeper is their wound."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1743

"O think how deep, Lorenzo! here it stings: / Who can appease its anguish? How it burns! / What hand the barb'd, envenom'd thought can draw?"

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1743

"'Tis Reason our great Master holds so dear; / 'Tis Reason's injured rights His wrath resents; / 'Tis Reason's voice obey'd His glories crown."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1743

"What awful joy! what mental liberty!"

— 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)

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

"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

"Your learning, like the lunar beam, affords / Light, but not heat; it leaves you undevout, / Frozen at heart, while speculation shines."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)