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A tardy vengeance shares the tyrant's guilt.

Edward Young

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Edward Young
Died: 1765
Died: April 5
Literary Critic
Playwright
Poet
Upham
Hampshire
Tyrants
Guilt
Share
Tardy
Shares
Tyrant
Vengeance

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By night an atheist half-believes in God.
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Final Ruin fiercely drives Her ploughshare o'er creation.
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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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Tomorrow is the day when idlers work, and fools reform and mortal men lay hold on heaven.
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There is nothing of which men are more liberal than their good advice, be their stock of it ever so small because it seems to carry in it an intimation of their own influence, importance or worth.
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Give me, indulgent gods with mind serene, And guiltless heart, to range the sylvan scene, No splendid poverty, no smiling care, No well-bred hate, or servile grandeur, there.
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Prayer ardent opens heaven.
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Youth is not rich in time it may be poor Part with it as with money, sparing pay No moment but in purchase of its worth, And what it's worth, ask death-beds they can tell.
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Time elaborately thrown away.
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When men of infamy to grandeur soar, They light a torch to show their shame the more.
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Wishing of all employments is the worst
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Virtue alone has majesty in death.
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The man that blushes is not quite a brute.
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Oh, how portentous is prosperity! How comet-like, it threatens while it shines.
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Angels are men of a superior kind Angels are men in lighter habit clad.
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Souls made of fire, and children of the sun, With whom revenge is virtue.
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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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When pain can't bless, heaven quits us in despair.
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Who gives an empire, by the gift defeats All end of giving and procures contempt Instead of gratitude.
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When men once reach their autumn, sickly joys fall off apace, as yellow leaves from trees
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