The Poetical Works of Edward Young: In Four Volumes. Collated with the Best Editions:

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Printed at the Stanhope Press, by Charles Whittingham, ... for John Sharpe, 1808
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Page 106 - O'er globes, and sceptres, now on thrones it swells ; Now, trims the midnight lamp in college cells : Tis tory, whig ; it plots, prays, preaches, pleads, Harangues in senates, squeaks in masquerades.
Page 147 - O sacred solitude ; divine retreat ! Choice of the prudent ! envy of the great ! By thy pure stream, or in thy waving shade, We court fair wisdom, that celestial maid : The genuine offspring of her lov'd embrace, (Strangers on earth,) are innocence and peace.
Page 166 - Can gold calm passion, or make reason shine ? Can we dig peace, or wisdom, from the mine ? Wisdom to gold prefer ; for 'tis much less To make our fortune, than our happiness.
Page 152 - Then, if ordain'd to so severe a doom, She, by just stages, journeys round the room : But, knowing her own weakness, she despairs To scale the Alps — that is, ascend the stairs. My fan ! let others say, who laugh at toil ; Fan! hood! glove! scarf!
Page 109 - And leaves state-rooms to strangers and to duns. The man who builds, and wants wherewith to pay, Provides a home from which to run away.
Page 107 - Some, for renown, on scraps of learning dote, And think they grow immortal as they quote. To patch-work learn'd quotations are allied ; Both strive to make our poverty our pride. On...
Page 15 - His heart's dismay'd; and now his fears command To change his native for a distant land: Swift orders fly, the king's severe decree Stands in the channel, and locks up the sea; The port he seeks, obedient to her lord, Hurls back the rebel to his lifted sword.
Page 54 - Tis dreadful to behold his nostrils blaze ! To paw the vale he proudly takes delight, And triumphs in the fulness of his might ; High raised he snuffs the battle from afar, And burns to plunge amid the raging war ; And mocks at death, and throws his foam around, And in a storm of fury shakes the ground.
Page 176 - Grecian chief, th' enthusiast of his pride, With rage and terror stalking by his side, Raves round the globe; he soars into a god ! Stand fast, Olympus ! and sustain his nod. The pest divine in horrid grandeur reigns, And thrives on mankind's miseries and pains.
Page 148 - Pleasures are few, and fewer we enjoy; Pleasure, like quicksilver, is bright, and coy; We strive to grasp it with our utmost skill, Still it eludes us, and it glitters still: If seiz'd at last, compute your mighty gains; What is it, but rank poison in your veins...

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