Date: 1761

"Soon as the guilty passion is allay'd, / The green and morbid colour of our souls / Is chang'd to virgin white; a gentle breeze / Of pity springs within us."

— Cumberland, Richard (1732-1811)

Date: 1766

"Her tuneful tongue with eloquence and ease, / The golden merchandize of thought conveys; / Brisk fancy wafts it with her sprightly gales, / While judgment ballasts all the swelling sails."

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

Date: 1755, 1771

"But he whose active, unencumber'd mind / Leaves this low earth and all its mists behind, / Fond in a pure unclouded sky to glow, / Like the bright orb that rises on the Po, / O'er half the globe with steady splendour shines, / And ripens virtues as it ripens mines."

— Cawthorn, James (1719-1761)

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: w. 1821, 1840

"It is as it were the interpretation of a diviner nature through our own; but its footsteps are like those of a wind over the sea, which the coming calm erases, and whose traces remain only as on the wrinkled sand which paves it."

— Shelley, Percy Bysshe (1792-1822)