Edward Young

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.

Man makes a death which Nature never made. And feels a thousand deaths in fearing one.

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.

While man is growing, life is in decrease; And cradles rock us nearer to the tomb. Our birth is nothing but our death begun. As tapers waste the moment they take fire.

How blessings brighten as they take their flight!

The blood will follow where the knife is driven, The flesh will quiver where the pincers tear.

Where boasting ends, there dignity begins.

The booby father craves a booby son, And by Heaven's blessing thinks himself undone.

It is great and manly to disdain disguise; it shows our spirit and proves our strength.

There buds the promise of celestial worth.