Date: 1766
"And strong discretion bridles restive wit."
preview | full record— Woodhouse, James (bap. 1735, d. 1820)
Date: 1768
"This Winged Boy a gentle mind did bear, / As gentle as the beast [a lamb] which him up-bore, / Ne could he see th'unhappy drop a tear / But it would make his breast with pity sore, / And he himself would weep and grieve therefore."
preview | full record— Downman, Hugh (1740-1809)
Date: 1771, 1776
"Thus Heaven enlarged his soul in riper years. / For Nature gave him strength, and fire, to soar, / On Fancy's wing, above this vale of tears."
preview | full record— Beattie, James (1735-1803)
Date: 1771, 1776
"Fancy now no more / Wantons on fickle pinion through the skies; / But, fix'd in aim, and conscious of her power, / Sublime from cause to cause exults to rise, / Creation's blended stores arranging as she flies."
preview | full record— Beattie, James (1735-1803)
Date: 1773
"'Grief, like a canker-worm at heart, / 'Had ravag'd from his inmost cell;"
preview | full record— Robertson, James (fl.1768-1788)
Date: 1773
"'How sweetly Women bill and coo! [...] 'No gall finds room within their breast, / 'There Turtle Love erects his nest."
preview | full record— Robertson, James (fl.1768-1788)
Date: 1773
"Strong Passions draw, like Horses that are strong, / The Body-Coach of Flesh and Blood along; / While subtle Reason, with each Rein in Hand, / Sits on the Box, and has them at Command; / Rais'd up aloft, to see and to be seen, / Judges the Track, and guides the gay Machine."
preview | full record— Byrom, John (1692-1763)
Date: 1773
"But was it made for nothing else beside / Passions to draw, and Reason to be Guide? / Was so much Art employ'd to drag and drive / Nothing within the Vehicle alive? / No seated Mind that claims the moving Pew, / Master of Passions, and of Reason too?"
preview | full record— Byrom, John (1692-1763)
Date: 1775, 1776
"'Let Meekness as a dove / 'Brood in man's heart the sacred acts of Love."
preview | full record— Jerningham, Edward (1727-1812)
Date: 1767, 1778
"Envy in courts and cottages will dwell, / Nay climb to heaven itself, tho' born in hell: / In every living bosom lurks this pest, / But reigns unrival'd in the human breast; / On reason's throne usurps a thorny part, / And plants a thousand daggers in the heart."
preview | full record— Jones, Henry (1721-1770)