Edward Young

Affliction is the good man's shining scene;
Prosperity conceals his brightest ray;
As night to stars, woe read more

Affliction is the good man's shining scene;
Prosperity conceals his brightest ray;
As night to stars, woe lustre gives to man.

At thirty, man suspects himself a fool,
Knows it at forty, and reforms his plan;
At fifty, read more

At thirty, man suspects himself a fool,
Knows it at forty, and reforms his plan;
At fifty, chides his infamous delay,
Pushes his prudent purpose to resolve,
In all the magnanimity of thought;
Resolves, and re-resolves, then dies the same.
And why? because he thinks himself immortal,
All men think all men mortal but themselves.

A soul without reflection, like a pile
Without inhabitant, to ruin runs.

A soul without reflection, like a pile
Without inhabitant, to ruin runs.

The qualities all in a bee that we meet,
In an epigram never should fail;
The body read more

The qualities all in a bee that we meet,
In an epigram never should fail;
The body should always be little and sweet,
And a sting should be felt in its tail.

He calls his wish, it comes; he sends it back,
And says he called another; that arrives,
read more

He calls his wish, it comes; he sends it back,
And says he called another; that arrives,
Meets the same welcome; yet he still calls on;
Till one calls him, who varies not his call,
But holds him fast, in chains of darkness bound,
Till Nature dies, and judgment sets him free;
A freedom far less welcome than this chain.