Date: Wednesday, June 6, 1711

"Pardon me, oh Pharamond, if my Griefs give me Leave, that I lay before you, in the Anguish of a wounded Mind, that you, good as you are, are guilty of the generous Blood spilt this Day by this unhappy Hand: Oh that it had perished before that Instant!"

— Steele, Sir Richard (1672-1729)

Date: 1711-2

A beloved may make her lover's heart a "Sov'reign Throne" and "reign unrivall'd there"

— Ward, Edward (1667-1731)

Date: 1711

"While Passions in their Breasts ungovern'd rage, / Distract the Mind, and War intestine wage, / Reason divine from her high Throne descends, / Lays by her Scepter, and her Pow'r suspends."

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1711

"Th' infernal Guest, where'er she comes, inspires / The People's Breasts with fierce Phrenetick Fires."

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1711

"Passions impatient of the Rein, disown / Reason's Dominion, and usurp her Throne."

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1711

"Thy subtile Sons, O Rome, to recompense / Their Loss of Pow'r, did Means succesful find / To found a wider Empire o'er the Mind."

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1711

Popes, "Who, as erroneus, Nature's Light asperse; / The Judgment, which our Senses pass, reverse; / And by th' usurp'd Authority of Heav'n / Repeal the just Decrees by Reason given: / Who Schemes of new Religion have enjoined, / Impos'd Belief, enslav'd the free-born Mind, / And artful by the man...

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1711

"Know, hardy Atheists, who insulting say / Some populous Realms to Gods no Homage pay, / And therefore Nature's universal Law / Imprints not on the Mind Religious Awe; / That those, who no superior Being own, / Are more from Beasts by Shape, than Reason known."

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1711

"The scorcht and pathless Desarts of the Brain, / Want proper Caves and Cells to entertain / A Crowd of airy Forms and long Ideal Train."

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1711

"These active Liquors, which Admission find / Thro' the strait Paths, and leave the coarse behind, / Swift to the inmost Rooms their Passage beat, / And crowd around the Soul's Imperial Seat."

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)