English Poet best known for "Night Thoughts"
"Not all on books their criticism waste; the genius of a dish some justly taste, and eat their way to fame."
"Nothing exceeds in ridicule, no doubt, a fool in fashion, but a fool that's out; his passion for absurdity's so strong, he cannot bear a rival in the wrong."
"O how loud It calls devotion! genuine growth of night! Devotion! daughter of Astronomy! As undevout Astronomer is mad."
"O sacred solitude! Divine retreat! Choice of the prudent! envy of the great, by thy pure stream, or in thy waving shade, we court fair wisdom, that celestial maid."
"O! lost to virtue, lost to manly thought, lost to the noble sallies of the soul! Who think it solitude to be alone."
"Of folly, vice, disease, men proud we see; and, (stranger still,) of blockheads' flattery; whose praise defames; as if a fool should mean, by spitting on your face, to make it clean."
"Of plain sound sense life's current coin is made; With that we drive the most substantial trade."
"Oh! lost to virtue, lost to manly thought, lost to the noble sallies of the soul, who think it solitude to be alone."
"Oh! the pain of pains is when the fair one, whom our soul is fond of, gives transport, and receives it from another."
"Oh! the tender ties, close twisted with the fibres of the heart! Which broken, break them, and drain off the soul of human joy, and make it pain to live."
"Oh, lost to virtue ? lost to manly thought, Lost to the noble sallies of the soul! Who think it solitude to be alone."
"On all important time, thro' ev'ry age, tho' much, and warm, the wise have urged; the man is yet unborn, who duly weighs an hour, "I've lost a day"--the prince who nobly cried had been an emperor without his crown; of Rome? say rather, lord of human race."
"One sun by day; by night ten thousand shine, and light us deep into the deity. - How boundless in magnificence and might! - Stars teach as well as shine, and every student of the night inspire; the elder scripture writ by God's own hand, authentic, uncorrupt by man."
"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."
"Our funeral tears from different causes rise: of various kinds they flow. From tender hearts, by soft contagion call'd, some burst at once and stream obsequious to the leading eye. Some ask more time, by curious art distill'd. Some hearts, in secret hard, unapt to melt, struck by the public eye, gush out amain."
"Part with it as with money, sparing; pay no moment but in purchase of its worth: and what its worth ask death-beds; they can tell."
"Pleasure, like quicksilver, is bright and coy; we strive to grasp it with our utmost skill, still it eludes us, and it glitters still: if seized at last, compute your mighty gains; what is it, but rank poison in your veins?"
"Possession, why more tasteless than pursuit? Why is a wish far dearer than a crown? that wish accomplished, why the grave of bliss? Because in the great future, buried deep, beyond our plans of empire and renown, lies all that man with ardor should pursue; and He who made him bent him to the right."
"Praise, more divine than prayer; prayer points our ready path to heaven; praise is already there."
"Prayer ardent opens heaven, lets down a stream of glory on the consecrated hour of man, in audience with the Deity; who worships the great God, that instant joins the first in heaven, and sets his foot on hell."