Date: 1730

"What dreadful havoc in the human breast / The passions make, when unconfin'd, and mad, / They burst, unguided by the mental eye, / The light of reason; which in various ways / Points them to good, or turns them back from ill."

— Thomson, James (1700-1748)

Date: 1730

"O save me from the tumult of the soul! / From the wild beasts within!"

— Thomson, James (1700-1748)

Date: 1730

"All deaths, all tortures, in one pang combin'd, / Are gentle to the tempest of the mind."

— Thomson, James (1700-1748)

Date: 1730

"This rising day / Saw Sophonisba, from the height of life, / Thrown to the very brink of slavery: / State, honours, armies vanquish'd; nothing left / But her own great unconquerable mind."

— Thomson, James (1700-1748)

Date: 1730

"See there the ruins of the noble mind, / When from calm reason passion tears the sway."

— Thomson, James (1700-1748)

Date: 1745

"My Brother talks for ever of the Passion, / That fires young Tancred's Breast."

— Thomson, James (1700-1748)

Date: 1745

"He says that, tho' he were not nobly born, / Nature has form'd him noble, generous, brave, / Truely magnanimous, and warmly scorning / Whatever bears the smallest Taint of Baseness: / That every easy Virtue is his own; / Not learnt by painful Labour, but inspir'd, / Implanted in his Soul."

— Thomson, James (1700-1748)

Date: 1745

Chiefly one Charm / He in his graceful Character observes: / That tho' his Passions burn with high Impatience, / And sometimes, from a noble Heat of Nature, / Are ready to fly off, yet the least Check / Of ruling Reason brings them back to Temper, / And gentle Softness."

— Thomson, James (1700-1748)

Date: 1745

"The Duties of his Day / Were all discharg'd, and gratefully enjoy'd / It's noblest Blessings; calm, as Evening Skies, / Was his pure Mind, and lighted up with Hopes / That open Heaven; when, for his last long Sleep / Timely prepar'd, a Lassitude of Life, / A pleasing Weariness of mortal Joy, / F...

— Thomson, James (1700-1748)

Date: 1745

"But when the Practice comes; when our fond Passions, / Pleasure and Pride and Self-Indulgence throw / Their magic Dust around, the Prospect roughens: / Then dreadful Passes, craggy Mountains rise, / Cliffs to be scal'd, and Torrents to be stem'd."

— Thomson, James (1700-1748)