The Works of the Rev. Dr. Edward Young

C.W.S. & H. Spear, 1811

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Side 162 - And that through every stage: when young, indeed, In full content we, sometimes, nobly rest, Unanxious for ourselves ; and only wish, As duteous sons, our fathers were more wise. 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.
Side 215 - Oh, the burst gates, crush'd sting, demolish'd throne, Last gasp of vanquish'd Death! Shout earth and heaven, This sum of good to man, whose nature then Took wing, and mounted with him from the tomb ! Then, then, I rose ; then first humanity Triumphant past the crystal ports of light, (Stupendous guest!) and seiz'd eternal youth, Seiz'd in our name.
Side 161 - tis madness to defer: Next day the fatal precedent will plead; Thus on, till wisdom is pushed out of life. 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.
Side 210 - Why all this toil for triumphs of an hour ? What though we wade in wealth, or soar in fame ? Earth's highest station ends in, " Here he lies," And " Dust to dust
Side 157 - Insatiate archer ! could not one suffice ? Thy shaft flew thrice; and thrice my peace was slain; And thrice, ere thrice yon moon had fill'd her horn.
Side 180 - Teaching, we learn ; and, giving, we retain The births of intellect ; when dumb, forgot Speech ventilates our intellectual fire ; Speech burnishes our mental magazine ; Brightens, for ornament ; and whets, for use.
Side 184 - The chamber where the good man meets his fate, Is privileg'd beyond the common walk Of virtuous life, quite in the verge of heav'n.
Side 157 - Led softly, by the stillness of the night, Led like a murderer, (and such it proves !) Strays (wretched rover !) o'er the pleasing past ; In quest of wretchedness perversely strays ; And finds all desert now; and meets the ghosts Of my departed joys...
Side 208 - To lucky life) some perquisites of joy; A time there is, when, like a thrice-told tale, Long-rifled life of sweet can yield no more...
Side 216 - midst the thunders of his throne! Nor I alone! a rebel universe! My species up in arms! not one exempt! Yet for the foulest of the foul he dies, Most joy'd for the redeem'd from deepest guilt! As if our race were held of highest rank, And Godhead dearer as more kind to man !

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