Date: 1700, 1702

"And all fires those that lighted up my Soul / Glory and bright Ambition languish now, / And leave me dark and gloomy as the Grave."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1703

"If any Spark from Heav'n remain unquench'd / Within her Breast, my Breath perhaps may wake it; / Cou'd I but prosper there, I wou'd not doubt / My Combat with that loud vain-glorious Boaster."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1703

"My fierce, ambitious Soul / Declining droops, and all her Fires grow pale; / Yet let not this Advantage swell thy Pride, / I Conquer'd in my turn, in Love I Triumph'd."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1703

"Wou'd it were Death, as sure 'tis wond'rous like it, / For I am sick of Living, my Soul's pall'd, / She kindles not with Anger or Revenge; / Love was th'informing, active Fire within, / Now that is quench'd, the Mass forgets to move, / And longs to mingle with its kindred Earth."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1706

"And therefore wert thou bred to virtuous Knowledge, / And Wisdom early planted in thy Soul; / That thou might'st know to rule thy fiery Passions, / To bind their Rage, and stay their headlong Course."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1706

"'tis for this / My Soul takes Fire within, and vainly urges / My cold enervate Hand t'assert thy Cause."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1706

"My gen'rous Soul takes fire, and half repines, / To think she must not share the glorious Danger, / Where Numbers wait you, worthy of your Swords."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: November 25, 1707; 1708

"Since the same Flame, by different Ways express'd, / Glows in the Heroe's and the Poet's Breast."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: November 25, 1707; 1708

"I love, my Aribert; I doat to Death: / The raging Flame has touch'd my Heart, my Brain, / And Madness will ensue."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: November 25, 1707; 1708

"Oh! thou hast touch'd me with the sacred Theme, / And my cold Heart is kindled at thy Flame; / An active Hope grows busie in my Breast, / And something tells me we shall both be blest."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)