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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.

Edward Young

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Edward Young
Died: 1765
Died: April 5
Literary Critic
Playwright
Poet
Upham
Hampshire
Goddess
Sable
Forth
Sceptre
Night
Leaden
World
Slumbering
Stretches
Throne
Thrones
Majesty

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It is great and manly to disdain disguise it shows our spirit and proves our strength.
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Groan under gold, yet weep for want of bread.
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How blessings brighten as they take their flight.
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One eye on death, and one full fix'd on heaven.
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What tender force, what dignity divine, what virtue consecrating every feature around that neck what dross are gold and pearl!
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The spirit walks of every day deceased.
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Wishing of all employments is the worst
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Amid my list of blessings infinite, stands this the foremost, that my heart has bled.
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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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Time elaborately thrown away.
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Read nature nature is a friend to truth.
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Woes cluster. Rare are solitary woes They love a train, they tread each other's heel.
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Truth never was indebted to a lie
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A friend is worth all hazards we can run.
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Affliction is a good man's shining time.
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Virtue alone has majesty in death.
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We nothing know, but what is marvellous Yet what is marvellous, we can't believe.
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The course of Nature is the art of God
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I've known my lady (for she loves a tune) For fevers take an opera in June: And, though perhaps you'll think the practice bold, A midnight park is sov'reign for a cold.
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A God alone can comprehend a God.
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