Date: 1718

"Whilst, as my System says, the Mind / Is to these upper Rooms confin'd."

— Prior, Matthew (1664-1721)

Date: 1718

"The Mind, e'er Guilt had Man undone, / With Heav'nly Lustre, like blest Seraphs, shone."

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1718

"The Soul is darker than the deepest Cave, / Hard as the Rock, and colder than the Grave"

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1718

"But fancy'd Terrors haunt her boding Thought."

— Amhurst, Nicholas (1697-1742)

Date: 1718

"Mature, if not improv'd, by Time / Up to the Heart She loves to climb: / From thence, compell'd by Craft and Age, / She makes the Head her latest Stage."

— Prior, Matthew (1664-1721)

Date: 1718

"But I can call to my Assistance / Proximity (mark that!) and Distance: / Can prove, that all Things, on Occasion, / Love Union, and desire Adhesion; / That Alma merely is a Scale; / And Motives, like the Weights, prevail."

— Prior, Matthew (1664-1721)

Date: 1718

"If neither Side turn down or up, / With Loss or Gain, with Fear or Hope; / The Balance always would hang ev'n, / Like Mah'met's Tomb, 'twixt Earth and Heav'n."

— Prior, Matthew (1664-1721)

Date: 1718

"But the sweet Bowl's intoxicating Fume / Will by degrees our vanquish'd Sense benumb, / And o'er the Mind diffuse Egyptian Gloom."

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1718

"Now Nightly Horrors cease to haunt the Head, / And we no more familiar Danger dread."

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1718

"Should you presumptuous, quit your safer Ground, / And seek the utmost Lines, which Vertue bound, / And on the Frontier to engage the Foe, With Reason 's weak collected Forces go, / You'll soon those nice, ill-guarded Limits pass, / Throw down your Arms, and fond her Feet embrace, / In her soft ...

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)