Date: 1796

"The storm of passion once over, he would have given worlds, had he possessed them, to have restored to her that innocence of which his unbridled lust had deprived her."

— Lewis, Matthew Gregory (1775-1818)

Date: 1801

A cloud may darkly over one's fancy play

— Burges, Sir James Bland (1752-1824)

Date: 1801

"Some fickle creatures boast a soul / True as the needle to the pole; / Yet shifting, like the weather, / The needle's constancy forego / For any novelty, and show / Its variations rather."

— Cowper, William (1731-1800)

Date: October 4, 1802

"Ah! from the soul itself must issue forth / A light, a glory, a fair luminous cloud / Enveloping the Earth--"

— Coleridge, Samuel Taylor (1772-1834)

Date: 1803

Genius may "separate the clouds by error spread, / Till all the gloom is vanquish'd, and the light / Of intellectual day wide-blazing streams"

— Downman, Hugh (1740-1809)

Date: 1810

"Had Bethlehem's star, of humble swains the guide; / Of souls, unclouded with pedantick pride; / On thee benighted, beamed, with friendly ray, / With all the light of evangelick day; / Ideas, in thy brain, had held no dance / Of anarchy, thou citizen of France!"

— Stockdale, Percival (1736-1811)

Date: 1814, 1816, 1896

Ideas are "like the silent Snows, by Winter spread, / In silvery treasures, o'er the mountain's head; / Whose stores, while undisturb'd, each hour decay, / And hue, form, substance, quickly waste away; / But stirr'd, by winds, like words, with action strong, /Each sphere enlarges as it rolls alon...

— Woodhouse, James (bap. 1735, d. 1820)

Date: 1815?

There are "thoughts that dwell /Deep in the lonely bosom's inmost cell / Unnoticed, and unknown, too painful wake, / And, like a tempest, the dark spirit shake, / When, starting from our slumberous apathy, / We gaze upon the scenes of days gone by."

— Bowles, William Lisle (1762-1850)

Date: 1817

Thoughts may come round us, "as of leaves budding--fruit ripening in stillness" etc.

— Keats, John (1795-1821)

Date: 1817

"Nor should we pass the secret cell, / Where lonely Science loves to dwell, / Pleas'd, from its lamp, to cast the ray / That lights the mind's beclouded day."

— Combe, William (1742 -1823)