Date: 1723

"Can'st say what diff'rent Turns the Spirits take, / When they of diff'rent Kinds Impressions make; / What vital Springs those Spirits in their Flight / Strike to cause Torment, what to give Delight."

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1723

"Say, can your Mind to Heav'n direct her Flight / In ardent Anhelations?"

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1726

"Whitening, the angry Billows rowl immense, / And roar their Terrors, thro' the shuddering Soul / Of feeble Man, amidst their Fury caught, / And, dash'd upon his Fate."

— Thomson, James (1700-1748)

Date: 1726

"Society divine! Immortal Minds! / Still visit thus my Nights, for you reserv'd, / And mount my soaring Soul to Deeds like yours."

— Thomson, James (1700-1748)

Date: 1727

"The sad Idea of his murder'd Mate, / Struck from his Side by savage Fowler's Guile, / Across his Fancy comes; and then resounds / A louder Song of Sorrow through the Grove."

— Thomson, James (1700-1748)

Date: 1727

"Passes the day illusive, and perplext, / As fleets the Vision o'er the formful Brain, / This Moment hurrying wild the impassion'd Soul, / The next in Nothing lost."

— Thomson, James (1700-1748)

Date: 1728

"HAIL, Mighty Being! Universal Soul / Of Heaven and Earth! Essential Presence, hail! / To Thee I bend the Knee, to Thee my Thoughts / Continual climb, who, with a Master-Hand, / Hast the great Whole into Perfection touch'd."

— Thomson, James (1700-1748)

Date: 1728

"From the Tongue / Th' unfinish'd Period falls: while, born away / On swelling Thought, his wafted Spirit flies / To the dear Bosom of his absent Fair; / And leaves the Semblance of a Lover, fix'd / In melancholy Site, with Head declin'd, / And Love-dejected Eyes."

— Thomson, James (1700-1748)

Date: 1728

"Reflection pours, / Afresh, her Beauties on his busy Thought, / Her first Endearments, twining round the Soul, / With all the Witchcraft of ensnaring Love."

— Thomson, James (1700-1748)

Date: 1735

"But if my Soul, / To this gross Clay confin'd, flutters on Earth / With less ambitious Wing; unskill'd to range / From Orb to Orb, where Newton leads the Way; / And view with piercing Eye the grand Machine, / Worlds above Worlds; subservient to his Voice, / Who, veil'd in clouded Majesty, alone ...

— Somervile, William (1675-1742)