Night, sable goddess! from her ebon throne, In rayless majesty, now stretches forth Her leaden sceptre o'er a slumbering world. — Edward Young Copy Share Image
To know the world, not love her, is thy point; She gives but little, nor that little, long. — Edward Young Copy Share Image
Born originals, how comes it to pass that we die copies? That meddling ape imitation, as soon as we come to years… — 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
Tired nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep! He, like the world, his ready visit pays Where fortune smiles; the wretched he forsakes. — Edward Young Copy Share Image
If we did but know how little some enjoy of the great things that they possess, there would not be much envy… — Edward Young Copy Share Image
The melancholy ghosts of dead renown, Whispering faint echoes of the world's applause. — 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