Edward Young

Procrastination is the thief of time: Year after year it steals, till all are fled, And to the mercies of read more

Procrastination is the thief of time: Year after year it steals, till all are fled, And to the mercies of a moment leaves The vast concerns of an eternal scene

Britannia's shame! There took her gloomy flight,
On wing impetuous, a black sullen soul . . .
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Britannia's shame! There took her gloomy flight,
On wing impetuous, a black sullen soul . . .
Less base the fear of death than fear of life.
O Britain! infamous for suicide.

Narcissus is the glory of his race:
For who does nothing with a better grace?

Narcissus is the glory of his race:
For who does nothing with a better grace?

All men think all men mortal, but themselves.

All men think all men mortal, but themselves.

The melancholy ghosts of dead renown,
Whispering faint echoes of the world's applause.

The melancholy ghosts of dead renown,
Whispering faint echoes of the world's applause.