Edward Young

Is there a tongue like Delia's o'er her cup,
That runs for ages without winding up?

Is there a tongue like Delia's o'er her cup,
That runs for ages without winding up?

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.

Narcissus is the glory of his race:
For who does nothing with a better grace?

Narcissus is the glory of his race:
For who does nothing with a better grace?

Procrastination is the thief of time: Year after year it steals, till all are fled, And to the mercies of read more

Procrastination is the thief of time: Year after year it steals, till all are fled, And to the mercies of a moment leaves The vast concerns of an eternal scene

Be wise with speed; a fool at forty is a fool indeed

Be wise with speed; a fool at forty is a fool indeed