a. (context obsolete English) young
Yonge is a surname. Notable people with the surname include:
- Charles Maurice Yonge (1899–1986), British marine biologist
- Charles Duke Yonge (1812–1891), English historian
- Charlotte Mary Yonge (1823–1901), English author
- Sir George Yonge, 5th Baronet (1731–1812), British Secretary at War and the namesake of Yonge Street
- John Yonge (1465–1516), English bishop and diplomat
- Sir John Yonge, 1st Baronet (1603–1663), English merchant and Member of Parliament
- Nicholas Yonge (1560–1619), English Renaissance singer and publisher
- Roby Yonge (1943–1997), American radio DJ
- Thomas Yonge or Young (1405–1476), MP for Bristol and Gloustershire, justice of the Common Pleas and the King's Bench
- Walter Yonge of Colyton (1579–1649), English lawyer, merchant and Member of Parliament
- Sir Walter Yonge, 2nd Baronet (1625–1670)
- Sir Walter Yonge, 3rd Baronet (1653–1731)
- William Yonge (disambiguation)
Usage examples of "yonge".
Yonge himself, that the enterprise was on too large a scale for his partial knowledge, and moreover, much progress had been made during these nine years in ecclesiology, so that architects who had made it their study were to be found.
He walked Gonzo most often through Craigleigh Gardens, near his Rosedale home, and at night the most visible object from the shrubbery is the ochre neon sign at Bloor and Yonge, announcing-rhe Bay!
And all poore soules that have scowred bowles, Or have them lustily trolde, God save the lyves of them and their wives, Whether they be yonge or olde.
Legate Yonge, and, with five of the men of Sambar Troop, we rode cautiously down to the Imru, past the crawling bodies of the wounded, past the corpses, trying to ignore the pleas for help or even a merciful blade between the ribs.
He is in our hands, together with a Serviceman named Yonge, who told me that Councilman Starr had assured him safe-conduct in case of need.
English case of chromidrosis, or colored sweat, was published by Yonge of Plymouth in 1709.
Thus lerne children, whan that they been yonge, My sone, of muchel spekyng yvele avysed, Ther lasse spekyng hadde ynough suffised, Comth muchel harm-thus was me toold and taught.
Yonge, though health obliged the latter to return from Varna, while the former took part in the famous Balaklava charge, and was unhurt, though his horse was killed.
And right anoon, withouten moore abood, His baner he desplayeth, and forth rood To Thebesward, and al his hoost biside, No neer Atthenes wolde he go ne ride, Ne take his ese fully half a day, But onward on his wey that nyght he lay- And sente anon Ypolita the queene, And Emelye, hir yonge suster sheene, Unto the toun of Atthenes to dwelle- And forth he rit.
He seyde he lovede, and was biloved no thyng, Of swich matere made he manye layes, Songes, compleintes, roundels, virelayes, How that he dorste nat his sorwe telle, But langwissheth, as a furye dooth in helle, And dye he moste, he seyde, as dide Ekko For Narcisus, that dorste nat telle hir wo, In oother manere than ye heere me seye, Ne dorste he nat to hir his wo biwreye, Save that paraventure som tyme at daunces, Ther yonge folk kepen hir observaunces, It may wel be he looked on hir face, In swich a wise as man that asketh grace.
For thilke peyne, and thilke hoote fir, In which thou whilom brendest for desir Whan that thow usedest the greet beautee Of faire yonge fresshe Venus free, And haddest hir in armes at thy wille- Al though thee ones on a tyme mysfille Whan Vulcanus hadde caught thee in his las, And foond thee liggynge by his wyf, allas!
Whan Zephirus eek with his swete breeth Inspired hath in every holt and heeth The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne Hath in the Ram his halfe cours yronne, And smale foweles maken melodye, That slepen al the nyght with open eye- So priketh hem Nature in hir corages- Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages And palmeres for to seken straunge strondes To ferne halwes, kowthe in sondry londes.
But in the same ship as he hir fond, Hir and hir yonge sone, and al hir geere, He sholde putte, and croude hir fro the lond, And chargen hir she never eft coome theere.
Have heer my trouthe, as thou art his espye, Telle where he is, or thou shalt it abye, By God and by the hooly sacrament, For soothly thou art oon of his assent To sleen us yonge folk, thou false theef?