Date: 1681

"[H]ere's the wit of a Tarpawlin now; one ruffling Storm frights away all their brains, to make room for the fumes that make them Valiant"

— D'Urfey, Thomas (1653?-1723)

Date: 1682

"I fear my breast wants room for the excessive joy; is stuck round with the darts of your Beauty, like an Orange that is stuck with Cloves."

— D'Urfey, Thomas (1653?-1723)

Date: 1682

"I freely give it: so is my heart the dearest faithfull Closet of your Merit."

— D'Urfey, Thomas (1653?-1723)

Date: 1682

"Love, that like a rich and potent Lord possesses, each close Apartment of this Charming Body, retains thy Vertue for some fitter season, and therefore shuts it up in some dark Closet, till the Riotous Soul has done its Revelling."

— D'Urfey, Thomas (1653?-1723)

Date: 1686

"Charm her with tender and obliging words, and make her heart like Gold within a Furnace; Melt down before the Language of my Love."

— D'Urfey, Thomas (1653?-1723)

Date: 1686

"So much of joy crowds fast into my heart, / There is not room for utterance"

— D'Urfey, Thomas (1653?-1723)

Date: 1686

"Oh what a Tempest have I in my Stomach?"

— D'Urfey, Thomas (1653?-1723)

Date: 1686

"My Guts are grumbling a kind of Tune, Like the Base Pipes of an Organ: I am starv'd into a Substance so thin, that my Body is transparent; you may see my heart, and the appurtenances, hang up here in its mortal Closet, as easily as a Candle in a Lanthorn."

— D'Urfey, Thomas (1653?-1723)

Date: 1686

"I am starv'd into a Substance so thin, that my Body is transparent; you may see my heart, and the appurtenances, hang up here in its mortal Closet, as easily as a Candle in a Lanthorn."

— D'Urfey, Thomas (1653?-1723)

Date: 1691

"Oh never doubt me, I'll not break my Word,--and now sweet Angel, my Joys crowd thick about my Heart, and long for vent, the approaching happiness looks so like Heaven that I methinks am extasied already"

— D'Urfey, Thomas (1653?-1723)