Date: 1653

"And when our brain with amorous thoughts is stayed, / Perhaps there is a bride and bridegroom made; / And when our thoughts all merry be and gay, / There may be dancing on their wedding day."

— Cavendish, Margaret (1623-1673)

Date: 1653

"And when our thoughts all merry be and gay, / There may be dancing on their wedding day."

— Cavendish, Margaret (1623-1673)

Date: 1653

"A thought for Breeding would a Travellour be, / The several Countries in the Brain to see; / Spurr'd with Desires he was, Booted with Hope, / His Cap Curios'ty, Patience was his Cloak: / Thus Suited, strait a Horse he did provide, / And Strong Imagination got to Ride; / Which Sadled with Ambitio...

— Cavendish, Margaret (1623-1673)

Date: 1653

"Some ways i'th' Brain were Ill, and Foul with all, / Which made him oft into deep Errours fall; / Oft was he hid by Mountains high of Fear, / Then slid down Precipices of Despair; / Woods of Forgetfulness he oft past through, / To find the Right way out, had much ado."

— Cavendish, Margaret (1623-1673)

Date: 1664

"Their Hearts are as hard, as Iron too, / As tough, but not so cold."

— Bold, Henry (1627-1683)

Date: 1664

"But swift Desires, / Transport my passions, to a Throne of Rest"

— Bold, Henry (1627-1683)

Date: 1664

"Or if that Lady, in whose Breast, / My fled Heart, is lodg'd a Guest, / Will Exchange (but Oh! I fear / Her's, is stray'd, some other where) / I may Live"

— Bold, Henry (1627-1683)

Date: 1664

"Come! let thy locks (whose every Hair / A willing Lover doth ensnare) / Fetter my Soul, in those soft Chaines, / Where Beauty link't with Love, remains!"

— Bold, Henry (1627-1683)

Date: 1664

"Come! let thy locks (whose every Hair / A willing Lover doth ensnare) / Fetter my Soul, in those soft Chaines, / Where Beauty link't with Love, remains!"

— Bold, Henry (1627-1683)

Date: 1666

"The composition of all poems is or ought to be of wit, and wit in the poet, or wit writing (if you will give me leave to use a school distinction), is no other than the faculty of imagination in the writer, which, like a nimble spaniel, beats over and ranges through the field of memory, till it ...

— Dryden, John (1631-1700)