Date: 1667

"In every Brook or Mirrour we can find /  Reflections of our face to be; / But a true Optick to present our Mind / We hardly get, and darkly see."

— Philips [née Fowler], Katherine (1632-1664)

Date: 1667

"I wonder not to find those that know most, / Profess so much their Ignorance; / Since in their own Souls greatest Wits are lost, / And of themselves have scarce a glance."

— Philips [née Fowler], Katherine (1632-1664)

Date: 1667

"A Soul self-mov'd which can dilate, contract, / Pierces and judges things unseen: / But this gross heap of Matter cannot act, / Unless impulsed from within."

— Philips [née Fowler], Katherine (1632-1664)

Date: 1667

"And though 'tis true she [the soul] is imprison'd here, / Yet hath she Notions of her own, / Which Sense doth only jog, awake, and clear, / But cannot at the first make known."

— Philips [née Fowler], Katherine (1632-1664)

Date: 1667

"So unconcern'd she lives, so much above / The Rubbish of a sordid Jail, / That nothing doth her Energy improve / So much as when those structures fail."

— Philips [née Fowler], Katherine (1632-1664)

Date: 1667

"It is our narrow thoughts shorten these things, / By their companion Flesh inclin'd; / Which feeling its own weakness gladly brings / The same opinion to the Mind."

— Philips [née Fowler], Katherine (1632-1664)

Date: 1667

"We stifle our own Sun, and live in Shade; / But where its beams do once appear, / They make that person of himself afraid, / And to his own acts most severe."

— Philips [née Fowler], Katherine (1632-1664)

Date: 1667

"He that commands himself is more a Prince / Then he who Nations keeps in awe; / Who yield to all that does their Souls convince, / Shall never need another Law."

— Philips [née Fowler], Katherine (1632-1664)

Date: 1677

"Love does all day the Soules great Empire keep, / But Wine at night Lulls the soft God asleep."

— Behn, Aphra (1640?-1689)

Date: 1677

"But when Love held the Mirror, the undeceiving Glass / Reflected all the weakness of my Soul, and made me know / My richest treasure being lost, my Honour, / All the remaining spoil cou'd not be worth / The Conqueror's Care or Value."

— Behn, Aphra (1640?-1689)