Ah! what is human life? How, like the dial's tardy-moving shade, Day after day slides from us unperceiv'd! The cunning fugitive is… — Edward Young Copy Share Image
And can eternity belong to me, Poor pensioner on the bounties of an hour? — Edward Young Copy Share Image
The bell strikes One. We take no note of time But from its loss. To give it then a tongue Is wise… — Edward Young Copy Share Image
Blest leisure is our curse; like that of Cain, It, makes us wander, wander earth around, To fly that tyrant Thought. As… — Edward Young Copy Share Image
Man wants but little, nor that little long; How soon must he resign his very dust, Which frugal nature lent him for… — Edward Young Copy Share Image
'T is greatly wise to talk with our past hours, And ask them what report they bore to heaven. — Edward Young Copy Share Image
The man who consecrates his hours by vigorous effort, and an honest aim, at once he draws the sting of life and… — Edward Young Copy Share Image
Give me, indulgent gods with mind serene, And guiltless heart, to range the sylvan scene, No splendid poverty, no smiling care, No well-bred hate,… — Edward Young Copy Share Image
Procrastination is the thief of time: Year after year it steals, till all are fled. — Edward Young Copy Share Image
Britannia's shame! There took her gloomy flight, On wing impetuous, a black sullen soul . Less base the fear of death than fear of… — Edward Young Copy Share Image
The chamber where the good man meets his fate Is privileg'd beyond the common walk Of virtuous life, quite in the verge of heaven. — Edward Young Copy Share Image