Edward Young

Sense is our helmet, wit is but the plume;
The plume exposes, 'tis our helmet saves.
Sense read more

Sense is our helmet, wit is but the plume;
The plume exposes, 'tis our helmet saves.
Sense is the diamond, weighty, solid, sound;
When cut by wit, it casts a brighter beam;
Yet, wit apart, it is a diamond still.

Then lady Cynthia, mistress of the shade,
Goes, with the fashionable owls, to bed.

Then lady Cynthia, mistress of the shade,
Goes, with the fashionable owls, to bed.

Thou art so witty, profligate and thin,
At once we think thee Satan, Death and Sin.

Thou art so witty, profligate and thin,
At once we think thee Satan, Death and Sin.

Our birth is nothing but our death begun, As tapers waste the moment they take fire.

Our birth is nothing but our death begun, As tapers waste the moment they take fire.

One to destroy is murder by the law,
And gibbets keep the lifted hand in awe;
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One to destroy is murder by the law,
And gibbets keep the lifted hand in awe;
To murder thousands takes a specious name,
War's glorious art, and gives immortal fame.