The Works of the Rev. Dr. Edward Young, Volume 1

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

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Page 88 - I'm nearer death in this verse than the last: What then is to be done ? be wise with speed : A fool at forty is a fool indeed.
Page 126 - Think nought a trifle, though it small appear ; Small sands the mountain, moments make the year, And trifles life.
Page 126 - Ah ! why so vain, though blooming in thy spring, Thou shining, frail, ador'd and wretched thing? Old-age will come ; disease may come before ; Fifteen is full as mortal as threescore. Thy fortune, and thy charms, may soon decay : But grant these fugitives prolong their stay, Their basis totters, their foundation shakes ; Life, that supports them, in a moment breaks ; > Then wrought into the soul let virtues shine ; The ground eternal, as the work divine.
Page 139 - Grecian chief, th' enthusiast of his pride, With rage and terror stalking by his side, Raves round the globe ; he soars into a god ! Stand fast, Olympus ! and sustain his nod. The pest divine in horrid grandeur reigns, Aad thrives on mankind's miseries and pains.
Page 118 - The last result of an accomplish'd mind, With outward grace, the body's virtue, join'd. A violated decency now reigns ; And nymphs for failings take peculiar pains. With Chinese painters modern toasts agree, The point they aim at is deformity : They throw their persons with a hoyden air Across the room, and toss into the chair. So far their commerce with mankind is gone, They, for our manners, have exchang'd their own. The modest look, the castigated grace, The gentle movement, and slow-measur'd...
Page 50 - We, disbelieving our own senses, gaze, And wonder what a mortal's heart can raise To triumph o'er misfortunes, smile in grief, And comfort those who come to bring relief: We gaze, and as we gaze, wealth, fame, decay, And all the world's vain glories fade away.
Page 112 - Durfey's poesy, and Bunyan's prose: The learned war both wage with equal force, And the fifth morn concluded the divorce.
Page 74 - It aids the dancer's heel, the writer's head, And heaps the plain with mountains of the dead ; Nor ends with life, but nods in sable plumes, Adorns our hearse, and flatters on our tombs.
Page 109 - Some ladies' judgment in their features lies, And all their genius sparkles from their eyes. " But hold," she cries, " lampooner ! have a care; Must I want common sense, because I'm fair ?" O no : see Stella ; her eyes shine as bright As if her tongue was never in the right ; And yet what real learning, judgment, fire ! She seems...
Page 34 - Tune thy great praise, and bid my soul arise, And with the mounting sun ascend the skies; As that advances, let my zeal improve, And glow with ardour of consummate love ; Nor cease at eve, but with the setting sun My endless worship shall be still begun.

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