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Who, for the poor renown of being smart, Would leave a sting within a brother's heart?

Edward Young

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Edward Young
Died: 1765
Died: April 5
Literary Critic
Playwright
Poet
Upham
Hampshire
Heart
Would
Renown
Sting
Smart
Brother
Leave
Within
Poor

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At thirty, man suspects himself a fool Knows it at forty, and reforms his plan.
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Polite diseases make some idiots vain, Which, if unfortunately well, they feign.
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Amid my list of blessings infinite, stands this the foremost, that my heart has bled.
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How blessings brighten as they take their flight.
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There is something about poetry beyond prose logic, there is mystery in it, not to be explained but admired.
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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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Who lives to Nature, rarely can be poor who lives to fancy, never can be rich.
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Pity swells the tide of love.
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But fate ordains that dearest friends must part.
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By all means use some time to be alone.
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Old men love novelties the last arriv'd Still pleases best the youngest steals their smiles.
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There buds the promise of celestial worth.
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When pain can't bless, heaven quits us in despair.
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The purpose firm is equal to the deed
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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 course of Nature is the art of God
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Wishing of all employments is the worst
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Be wise with speed a fool at forty is a fool indeed.
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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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Life is the desert, life the solitude, death joins us to the great majority.
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