Edward Young ( 10 of 57 )
He rams his quill with scandal and with scoff,
But 'tis so very foul, it won't go off.
He rams his quill with scandal and with scoff,
But 'tis so very foul, it won't go off.
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 man of pleasure is a man of pains.
A man of pleasure is a man of pains.
Thou art so witty, profligate and thin,
At once we think thee Satan, Death and Sin.
Thou art so witty, profligate and thin,
At once we think thee Satan, Death and Sin.
Titles are marks of honest men, and wise:
The fool or knave that wears a title lies.
Titles are marks of honest men, and wise:
The fool or knave that wears a title lies.
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.
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.
Amid my list of blessings infinite,
Stands this the foremost, "That my heart has bled."
Amid my list of blessings infinite,
Stands this the foremost, "That my heart has bled."
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.
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.
