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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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Edward Young
Died: 1765
Died: April 5
Literary Critic
Playwright
Poet
Upham
Hampshire
Though
Scandal
Would
Acts
Men
Thou
Brave
Fame
View
Famed
Views
Ensue
High
Wouldst

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Man maketh a death which Nature never made.
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Pity swells the tide of love.
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Ne'er to meet, or ne'er to part, is peace.
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Wishing of all employments is the worst
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Who combats with a brother, wounds himself.
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There buds the promise of celestial worth.
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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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He sins against this life, who slights the next.
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How poor, how rich, how abject, how august, How complicate, how wonderful, is man!... Midway from nothing to the Deity!
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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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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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Praise, more divine than prayer prayer points our ready path to heaven praise is already there.
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Like our shadows, our wishes lengthen as our sun declines.
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This is the bud of being, the dim dawn, The twilight of our day, the vestibule Life's theatre as yet is shut, and death, Strong death, alone can heave the massy bar, This gross impediment of clay remove, And make us embryos of existence free.
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The man who builds, and wants wherewith to pay, Provides a home from which to run away.
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The man that blushes is not quite a brute.
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Woes cluster. Rare are solitary woes They love a train, they tread each other's heel.
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One eye on death, and one full fix'd on heaven.
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Groan under gold, yet weep for want of bread.
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Of boasting more than of a bomb afraid, A soldier should be modest as a maid.
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