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The course of Nature is the art of God

Edward Young

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Edward Young
Died: 1765
Died: April 5
Literary Critic
Playwright
Poet
Upham
Hampshire
Courses
Course
Art
Nature

More quotes by Edward Young

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The future... seems to me no unified dream but a mince pie, long in the baking, never quite done
Edward Young
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Fame is the shade of immortality, And in itself a shadow. Soon as caught, Contemn'd it shrinks to nothing in the grasp.
Edward Young
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But fate ordains that dearest friends must part.
Edward Young
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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.
Edward Young
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Britannia's shame! There took her gloomy flight, On wing impetuous, a black sullen soul . Less base the fear of death than fear of life. O Britain! infamous for suicide.
Edward Young
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O! lost to virtue, lost to manly thought, Lost to the noble sallies of the soul! Who think it solitude to be alone.
Edward Young
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The spider's most attenuated thread Is cord, is cable, to man's tender tie On earthly bliss it breaks at every breeze.
Edward Young
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Who, for the poor renown of being smart, Would leave a sting within a brother's heart?
Edward Young
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An angel's arm can't snatch me from the grave legions of angels can't confine me there.
Edward Young
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The bell strikes One. We take no note of time But from its loss. To give it then a tongue Is wise in man. As if an angel spoke, I feel the solemn sound. If heard aright, It is the knell of my departed hours.
Edward Young
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The man who builds, and wants wherewith to pay, Provides a home from which to run away.
Edward Young
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The blood will follow where the knife is driven, The flesh will quiver where the pincers tear.
Edward Young
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Wouldst thou be famed? have those high acts in view, Brave men would act though scandal would ensue.
Edward Young
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Where Nature's end of language is declin'd, And men talk only to conceal the mind.
Edward Young
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Man wants little, nor that little long.
Edward Young
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Who gives an empire, by the gift defeats All end of giving and procures contempt Instead of gratitude.
Edward Young
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Thoughts shut up want air, And spoil, like bales unopen'd to the sun.
Edward Young
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Insatiate archer! could not one suffice? Thy shaft flew thrice, and thrice my peace was slain And thrice, ere thrice yon moon had filled her horn.
Edward Young
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And friend received with thumps upon the back.
Edward Young
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We push time from us, and we wish him back * * * * * * Life we think long and short death seek and shun.
Edward Young