Date: 1714

"Are these the Proofs of Tenderness and Love? / These endless Quarrels, Discontents, and Jealousies, / These never ceasing Wailings and Complainings, / These furious Starts, these Whirlwinds of the Soul, / Which every other Moment rise to Madness?"

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1714

"Unhappy Sex! Whose easie yielding Temper / Gives Way to every Appetite alike; / Each gust of Inclination, uncontroul'd, / Sweeps thro' their Souls, and sets 'em in an uproar; / Each Motion of their Heart rises to Fury, / And Love in their weak Bosoms is a Rage / As terrible as Hate, and as destr...

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1714

"Was our Reason given / For such a Use! to be thus puff'd about / Like a dry Leaf, an idle Straw, a Feather, / The Sport of every whifling Blast that blows?"

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1714

"Storms of neighbouring Atoms tear the Soul"

— Evans, Abel (1679-1737)

Date: 1715

"As unregarded thro' the Vaulted Skies, / The Wat'ry South in Noisy Tempest flies: / Just so the vain Expressions touch our Mind, / Nor any strong Impressions leave behind."

— Oldisworth, William (1680-1734)

Date: 1715

"I'll summon all my Reason and my Duty, / To sooth this Storm within, and frame my Heart, / To yield Obedience to my noble Parents."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1715-1720

"His Country's Cares lay rowling in his Breast. / As when by Light'nings Jove 's Ætherial Pow'r / Foretells the ratling Hail, or weighty Show'r, / Or sends soft Snows to whiten all the Shore, / Or bids the brazen Throat of War to roar; / By fits one Flash succeeds, as one expire...

— Pope, Alexander (1688-1744)

Date: 1717

"Jove with a nod may bid the world to rest, / But Serenissa must becalm her breast."

— Pope, Alexander (1688-1744)

Date: 1719

"In the midst of the greatest Composures of my Mind, this would break out upon me like a Storm, and make me wring my Hands, and weep like a Child."

— Defoe, Daniel (1660?-1731)

Date: 1719

"I was not so much surpriz'd with the Lightning, as I was with a Thought which darted into my Mind as swift as the Lightning it self: O my Powder!"

— Defoe, Daniel (1660?-1731)