Date: 1712

"O'er her Ideas Sovereign [the soul] presides, / At Pleasure These unites, and Those divides."

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1712

"Did she not use the Senses Ministry, / Nor ever Taste, or Smell, or Hear, or See, / Cou'd she possest of Pow'r perceptive be?"

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1712

"How is the Image to the Sense convey'd? / On the tun'd Organ how the Impulse made? / How, and by which more noble Part the Brain / Perceives th'Idea, can their Schools explain? / 'Tis clear, in that Superior Seat alone / The Judge of Objects has her secret Throne."

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1712

"The Mind's Tribunal can Reports reject / Made by the Senses, and their Faults correct."

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1712

The mind "Can each reluctant Appetite controul: / Can ev'ry Passion rule, and ev'ry Sense, / Change Nature's Course, and with her Laws dispense: / Our Breathing to prevent, she can arrest / Th'Extension, or Contraction of the Breast: / When pain'd with Hunger we can Food refuse, / And wholesome A...

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1712

Atheists should "No more at Reason's solemn Bar appear, / Hardy no more Scholastic Weapons bear."

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1718

"Reluctant Reason you'll in Fetters keep, / And lay th' insulting Judge within asleep."

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1718

Reason may be "too Young to rule a Flame" (of love)

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1718

"Now, when unbridled Passions use to reign, / While vanquish'd Reason wears the Victor's Chain, / See Pleasure, fair and smiling as the Morn, / (Soft Silks her Limbs, gay Flow'rs her Head adorn) / Which with her Breath perfumes the ambient Air, / While sporting Zephyrs heave her golden Hair, / Mi...

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1718

"Should you presumptuous, quit your safer Ground, / And seek the utmost Lines, which Vertue bound, / And on the Frontier to engage the Foe, With Reason 's weak collected Forces go, / You'll soon those nice, ill-guarded Limits pass, / Throw down your Arms, and fond her Feet embrace, / In her soft ...

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)