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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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Edward Young
Died: 1765
Died: April 5
Literary Critic
Playwright
Poet
Upham
Hampshire
Gives
Procures
Instead
Defeats
Ends
Empire
Giving
Empires
Contempt
Defeat
Gratitude
Gift

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The qualities all in a bee that we meet, In an epigram never should fail The body should always be little and sweet, And a sting should be felt in its tail.
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Praise, more divine than prayer prayer points our ready path to heaven praise is already there.
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As night to stars, woe lustre gives to man.
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What most we wish, with ease we fancy near.
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Pity swells the tide of love.
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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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An angel's arm can't snatch me from the grave legions of angels can't confine me there.
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What is a miracle?--'Tis a reproach, 'Tis an implicit satire on mankind And while it satisfies, it censures too.
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Virtue alone has majesty in death.
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Truth never was indebted to a lie
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Like our shadows, our wishes lengthen as our sun declines.
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Final Ruin fiercely drives Her ploughshare o'er creation.
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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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Ambition! powerful source of good and ill!
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Where boasting ends, there dignity begins.
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Tis immortality, 'tis that alone, Amid life's pains, abasements, emptiness, The soul can comfort, elevate, and fill. That only, and that amply this performs.
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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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The man that blushes is not quite a brute.
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We nothing know, but what is marvellous Yet what is marvellous, we can't believe.
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Thy purpose firm is equal to the deed: Who does the best his circumstance allows Does well, acts nobly angels could no more.
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