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Pity swells the tide of love.

Edward Young

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Edward Young
Died: 1765
Died: April 5
Literary Critic
Playwright
Poet
Upham
Hampshire
Tide
Tides
Pity
Love
Swells

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Ambition! powerful source of good and ill!
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Nature delights in progress in advance.
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Praise, more divine than prayer prayer points our ready path to heaven praise is already there.
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A God alone can comprehend a God.
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Titles are marks of honest men, and wise The fool or knave that wears a title lies.
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One eye on death, and one full fix'd on heaven.
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Of boasting more than of a bomb afraid, A soldier should be modest as a maid.
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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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The purpose firm is equal to the deed
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Age should fly concourse, cover in retreat defects of judgment, and the will subdue walk thoughtful on the silent, solemn shore of that vast ocean it must sail so soon.
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Pygmies are pygmies still, though percht on Alps And pyramids are pyramids in vales. Each man makes his own stature, builds himself. Virtue alone outbuilds the Pyramids Her monuments shall last when Egypt's fall.
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Unlearned men of books assume the care, As eunuchs are the guardians of the fair.
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A soul without reflection, like a pile Without inhabitant, to ruin runs.
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A man I knew who lived upon a smile, And well it fed him he look'd plump and fair, While rankest venom foam'd through every vein.
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Final Ruin fiercely drives Her ploughshare o'er creation.
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The clouds may drop down titles and estates, and wealth may seek us, but wisdom must be sought.
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They most the world enjoy who least admire.
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Accept a miracle, instead of wit See two dull lines, with Stanhope's pencil writ.
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The soft whispers of the God in man.
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Sense is our helmet, wit is but the plume The plume exposes, 'tis our helmet saves. Sense is the diamond, weighty, solid, sound When cut by wit, it casts a brighter beam Yet, wit apart, it is a diamond still.
Edward Young