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One to destroy, is murder by the law and gibbets keep the lifted hand in awe to murder thousands, takes a specious name, 'War's glorious art', and gives immortal fame.

Edward Young

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Edward Young
Died: 1765
Died: April 5
Literary Critic
Playwright
Poet
Upham
Hampshire
Fear
Gives
Lifted
Keep
Name
Awe
Art
Takes
Immortal
Hands
Hand
Glorious
Giving
Names
Thousands
Literature
Murder
Law
Destroy
War
Fame
Specious

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The man who consecrates his hours by vigorous effort, and an honest aim, at once he draws the sting of life and Death he walks with nature and her paths are peace.
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Old men love novelties the last arriv'd Still pleases best the youngest steals their smiles.
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Pity swells the tide of love.
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Night, sable goddess! from her ebon throne, In rayless majesty, now stretches forth Her leaden sceptre o'er a slumbering world.
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But fate ordains that dearest friends must part.
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We push time from us, and we wish him back * * * * * * Life we think long and short death seek and shun.
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Tomorrow is a satire on today, And shows its weakness.
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Heaven wills our happiness, allows our doom.
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At thirty, man suspects himself a fool Knows it at forty, and reforms his plan.
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He that's ungrateful has no guilt but one All other crimes may pass for virtues in him.
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Midway from Nothing to the Deity!
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Who, for the poor renown of being smart, Would leave a sting within a brother's heart?
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Men may live fools, but fools they cannot die.
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'T is greatly wise to talk with our past hours, And ask them what report they bore to heaven.
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The soft whispers of the God in man.
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Virtue alone has majesty in death.
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Thy purpose firm is equal to the deed: Who does the best his circumstance allows Does well, acts nobly angels could no more.
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Think naught a trifle, though it small appear Small stands the mountain, moments make the year, and trifles life.
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Fond man! the vision of a moment made! Dream of a dream! and shadow of a shade!
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The blood will follow where the knife is driven, The flesh will quiver where the pincers tear.
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