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John Bartlett (1820–1905). Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. 1919.

Page 309

 
 
Edward Young. (1683–1765) (continued)
 
3332
    We see time’s furrows on another’s brow,
And death intrench’d, preparing his assault;
How few themselves in that just mirror see!
          Night Thoughts. Night v. Line 627.
3333
    Like our shadows,
Our wishes lengthen as our sun declines. 1
          Night Thoughts. Night v. Line 661.
3334
    While man is growing, life is in decrease;
And cradles rock us nearer to the tomb.
Our birth is nothing but our death begun. 2
          Night Thoughts. Night v. Line 717.
3335
    That life is long which answers life’s great end.
          Night Thoughts. Night v. Line 773.
3336
    The man of wisdom is the man of years.
          Night Thoughts. Night v. Line 775.
3337
    Death loves a shining mark, a signal blow. 3
          Night Thoughts. Night v. Line 1011.
3338
    Pygmies are pygmies still, though percht on Alps;
And pyramids are pyramids in vales.
Each man makes his own stature, builds himself.
Virtue alone outbuilds the Pyramids;
Her monuments shall last when Egypt’s fall.
          Night Thoughts. Night vi. Line 309.
3339
    And all may do what has by man been done.
          Night Thoughts. Night vi. Line 606.
3340
    The man that blushes is not quite a brute.
          Night Thoughts. Night vii. Line 496.
3341
    Too low they build, who build beneath the stars.
          Night Thoughts. Night viii. Line 215.
3342
    Prayer ardent opens heaven.
          Night Thoughts. Night viii. Line 721.
3343
    A man of pleasure is a man of pains.
          Night Thoughts. Night viii. Line 793.
3344
    To frown at pleasure, and to smile in pain.
          Night Thoughts. Night viii. Line 1045.
3345
    Final Ruin fiercely drives
Her ploughshare o’er creation. 4
          Night Thoughts. Night ix. 167.
 
Note 1.
See Dryden, Quotation 11. [back]
Note 2.
See Bishop Hall, Quotation 2. [back]
Note 3.
See Quarles, Quotation 1. [back]
Note 4.
Stern Ruin’s ploughshare drives elate
Full on thy bloom.
Robert Burns: To a Mountain Daisy. [back]