"MAN BUT DIVES IN DEATH; DIVES FROM THE SUN, IN FAIRER DAY TO RISE."-EDWARD YOUNG.
DREAMS ARE BUT INTERLUDES WHICH FANCY MAKES ;
For this by rules severe his life he squared,
That all might see the doctrines which they heard:
For priests, he said, are patterns for the rest
(The gold of heaven, who bear the God impressed):
But when the precious coin is kept unclean,
The sovereign's image is no longer seen.
If they be foul on whom the people trust,
Well may the baser brass contract a rust.
Such was the saint; who shone with every grace,
Reflecting, Moses like, his Maker's face.
[JOHN DRYDEN. A paraphrase upon Chaucer.]
"FAME IS THE SHADE OF IMMORTALITY, AND IN ITSELF A SHADOW."-DR. EDWARD YOUNG.
E waste, not use our time; we breathe, not live;
Time wasted is existence; used, is life:
And bare existence man, to live ordained,
Wrings and oppresses with enormous weight.
And why? since time was given for use, not waste,
Enjoined to fly, with tempest, tide, and stars,
To keep his speed, nor ever wait for man.
Time's use was doomed a pleasure, waste a pain,
That man might feel his error if unseen,
And, feeling, fly to labour for his cure;
Nor blundering, split on idleness for ease.
We push Time from us, and we wish him back;
Life we think long and short; death seek and shun.
Oh, the dark days of vanity! while
Here, how tasteless! and how terrible when gone!
Gone! they ne'er go; when past, they haunt us still :
WHEN MONARCH REASON SLEEPS, THIS MIMIC WAKES."-DRYDEN.
"WHAT THOU CANST INSURE, ENJOY; AND NOUGHT BUT WHAT THOU GIV'ST THYSELF IS SURE."-YOUNG.
66 NOTHING THIS WORLD UNRIDDLES BUT THE NEXT."-DR. E. YOUNG.
The spirit walks of every day deceased,
And smiles an angel, or a fury frowns.
Nor death nor life delight us. If time past,
And time possessed, both pain us, what can please?
That which the Deity to please ordained,
Time used. The man who consecrates his hours
By vigorous effort, and an honest aim,
At once he draws the sting of life and death:
He walks with nature, and her paths are peace.
'Tis greatly wise to talk with our past hours,
And ask them what report they bore to heaven,
And how they might have borne more welcome news.
Their answers form what men experience call;
If wisdom's friend her best, if not, worst foe.
But why on Time so lavish is my song:
On this great theme kind Nature keeps a school
To teach her sons herself. Each night we die—
Each morn are born anew;
And shall we kill each day?
Sure vice must butcher.
each day a life
If trifling kills,
Oh, what heaps of slain
Cry out for vengeance on us! time destroyed
Is suicide, where more than blood is spilt.
[EDWARD YOUNG, born 1681, died 1765, author of numerous poetical,
dramatic, and religious works, but chiefly remembered for his noble poem,
"The Night Thoughts," from which the above extracts are taken. His style
is remarkable for sententiousness, gravity, antithetical force, and a well-
sustained elevation.]
FAITH BUILDS A BRIDGE FROM THIS WORLD TO THE NEXT."-YOUNG.
"MAN, GLORIOUS PARTNER WITH THE DEITY IN THAT HIGH ATTRIBUTE, IMMORTAL LIFE."-YOUNG.
ALEXANDER POPE, A.D. 1688,
ALEXANDER SMITH, A.D. 1830.
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