Edward Young

'Tis impious in a good man to be sad.

'Tis impious in a good man to be sad.

At thirty, man suspects himself a fool,
Knows it at forty, and reforms his plan;
At fifty, read more

At thirty, man suspects himself a fool,
Knows it at forty, and reforms his plan;
At fifty, chides his infamous delay,
Pushes his prudent purpose to resolve,
In all the magnanimity of thought;
Resolves, and re-resolves, then dies the same.
And why? because he thinks himself immortal,
All men think all men mortal but themselves.

O how loud
It calls devotion! genuine growth of night!
Devotion! daughter of Astronomy!
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O how loud
It calls devotion! genuine growth of night!
Devotion! daughter of Astronomy!
As undevout Astronomer is mad.

Britannia's shame! There took her gloomy flight,
On wing impetuous, a black sullen soul . . .
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Britannia's shame! There took her gloomy flight,
On wing impetuous, a black sullen soul . . .
Less base the fear of death than fear of life.
O Britain! infamous for suicide.

Man wants but little, nor that little long;
How soon must he resign his very dust,
Which read more

Man wants but little, nor that little long;
How soon must he resign his very dust,
Which frugal nature lent him for an hour!