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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.

Edward Young

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Edward Young
Died: 1765
Died: April 5
Literary Critic
Playwright
Poet
Upham
Hampshire
Pain
Elevate
Soul
Amid
Life
Pains
Emptiness
Immortality
Fill
Amply
Comfort
Abasement
Alone
Performs

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Friendship's the wine of life.
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Men may live fools, but fools they cannot die.
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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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Ambition! powerful source of good and ill!
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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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Angels are men of a superior kind Angels are men in lighter habit clad.
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Insatiate archer! could not one suffice? Thy shaft flew thrice, and thrice my peace was slain And thrice, ere thrice yon moon had filled her horn.
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Of boasting more than of a bomb afraid, A soldier should be modest as a maid.
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Where Nature's end of language is declin'd, And men talk only to conceal the mind.
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The chamber where the good man meets his fate Is privileg'd beyond the common walk Of virtuous life, quite in the verge of heaven.
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Ne'er to meet, or ne'er to part, is peace.
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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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We nothing know, but what is marvellous Yet what is marvellous, we can't believe.
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But fate ordains that dearest friends must part.
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Inhumanity is caught from man, From smiling man.
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Horace appears in good humor while he censures, and therefore his censure has the more weight, as supposed to proceed from judgment and not from passion.
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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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Wishing of all employments is the worst
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One to destroy, is murder by the law and gibbets keep the lifted hand in awe to murder thousands, takes a specious name, 'War's glorious art', and gives immortal fame.
Edward Young
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Man makes a death which Nature never made. And feels a thousand deaths in fearing one.
Edward Young