SE C T. XVIII. ON PROCRASTINATION. BE wife to day; 'tis madness to defer; Year after year it fteals till all are fled, And to the mercies of a moment leaves DR. YOUNG. SECT. XIX. ON IRRESOLUTION. AT thirty man fufpects himself a fool; Knows it at forty, and reforms his plan; At fifty chides his infamous delay, Strikes Strikes thro' their wounded hearts the fudden dread; grave. DR. YOUNG. SECT. XX, ON TIME. TIME is eternity; pregnant with all Eternity can give; pregnant with all That makes archangels fmile. Who murders time, He crushes in the birth a pow'r ethereal, Only not ador'd! Moments feize; Heav'n's on their wing: A moment we may wish, When worlds want wealth to buy. Bid day ftand still; Bid him drive back his car, and reimport The period past, regive the given hour. DR. YOUNG. SECT XXI. ON LIFE'S STAGE. LIFE's little stage is a small eminence, above; that home of man, Inch-high the grave C 4 Where Where dwells the multitude: We gaze around; We read their monuments; we figh, and while We figh, we fink; and are what we deplor'd; Lamenting or lamented, all our lot! DR. YOUNG. SE C T. XXII. ON FRIENDSHIP. JUDGE before friendship, then confide till death a A friend is worth all hazards we can run. Know'st thou what a friend contains? Haft thou a friend to fet thy mind abroach? Good fenfe will ftagnate. Thoughts fhut up want air, And fpoil, like bales unopen'd to the fun. Had thought been all, fweet speech had been deny'd; Speech, thought's canal! speech, thought's criterion. DR. YOUNG⚫ SECT. XXIII. ON COVETOUSNESS. MAN wants but little; nor that little, long; How foon muft he refign his very duft, Which frugal nature lent him for an hour! O my my coevals! remnants of yourselves! Poor human ruins, tott'ring o'er the grave! Shall we, fhall aged men, like aged trees, Strike deeper their vile root, and closer cling, Still more enamour'd of this wretched foil? Shall our pale, wither'd hands, be still stretch'd out, Trembling at once with eagerness and age? With av'rice and convulfions grafping hard? Grafping at air! for what has earth befide? DR. YOUNG. SECT. XXIV. ON THE OMNIPRESENCE OF THE DEITY. MY proftrate foul adores the present God: Praife I a distant Deity? He tunes my voice, The nerve that writes fuftains. Wrap'd in his being, I refound his praise. The nameless He, whofe nod is Nature's birth, The great first, laft! Pavilion'd high he fits; Down to earth's centre fhould I fend my thought, The stars, tho' rich, what dross their gold to thee! DR. YOUNG. SECT. XXV. TO A LADY PLAYING UPON A LUTE. 'HE trembling ftrings about her fingers crowd, Small force there needs to make them tremble fo, WALLER. SECT. XXVI. ON LIBERTY. Liberty! thou Goddess heavenly bright! Profufe of blifs and pregnant with delight! Eternal pleasures in thy presence reign, Thou |