Edward Young (3 July 1683 – 5 April 1765) was an English poet, best remembered for Night-Thoughts.
It calls Devotion! genuine growth of night! Devotion! Daughter of Astronomy! An undevout astronomer is mad!
Born originals, how comes it to pass that we die copies? That meddling ape imitation, as soon as we come to years of indiscretion, (so let me speak,) snatches the pen, and blots out nature's mark of separation, cancels her kind intention, destroys all mental individuality. The lettered world no longer consists of singulars: it is a medley, a mass; and a hundred books, at bottom, are but one.
Oh, how portentous is prosperity! How comet-like, it threatens while it shines.
The purpose firm is equal to the deed
Prayer ardent opens heaven.
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, or servile grandeur, there.
Revere thyself, and yet thyself despise
Polite diseases make some idiots vain, Which, if unfortunately well, they feign.
O! lost to virtue, lost to manly thought, Lost to the noble sallies of the soul! Who think it solitude to be alone.
Pity swells the tide of love.
Early, bright, transient, chaste as morning dew, She sparkled, was exhaled, and went to heaven.
Unlearned men of books assume the care, As eunuchs are the guardians of the fair.
To know the world, not love her, is thy point; She gives but little, nor that little, long.
A strange alternative * * *Must women have a doctor or a dance?
Be wise today; 'tis madness to defer. Next day the fatal precedent will plead; thus on, til wisdom is pushed our of life.
Thy purpose firm is equal to the deed: Who does the best his circumstance allows Does well, acts nobly; angels could no more.
Who lives to Nature, rarely can be poor ; who lives to fancy, never can be rich.
Some wits, too, like oracles, deal in ambiguities, but not with equal success; for though ambiguities are the first excellence of an imposter, they are the last of a wit.
What most we wish, with ease we fancy near.
What ardently we wish, we soon believe.