Edward Young

Sense is our helmet, wit is but the plume;
The plume exposes, 'tis our helmet saves.
Sense read more

Sense is our helmet, wit is but the plume;
The plume exposes, 'tis our helmet saves.
Sense is the diamond, weighty, solid, sound;
When cut by wit, it casts a brighter beam;
Yet, wit apart, it is a diamond still.

Like birds, whose beauties languish half concealed,
Till, mounted on the wing, their glossy plumes
Expanded, shine read more

Like birds, whose beauties languish half concealed,
Till, mounted on the wing, their glossy plumes
Expanded, shine with azure, green and gold;
How blessings brighten as they take their flight.

Oh, how portentous is prosperity!
How comet-like, it threatens while it shines.

Oh, how portentous is prosperity!
How comet-like, it threatens while it shines.

Then lady Cynthia, mistress of the shade,
Goes, with the fashionable owls, to bed.

Then lady Cynthia, mistress of the shade,
Goes, with the fashionable owls, to bed.

On the soft bed of luxury most kingdoms have expired.

On the soft bed of luxury most kingdoms have expired.