Date: 1700
"The Lamp of Life burns dimly in my Breast, / Soon from its beating toil my weary Heart will rest."
preview | full record— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)
Date: 1702
"My Heart beats higher, and my nimble Spirits / Ride swiftly thro' their purple Channels round: / 'Tis the last blaze of Life: Nature revives / Like a dim, winking Lamp, that flashes brightly / With parting Light, and strait is dark for ever."
preview | full record— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)
Date: 1700, 1702
"What is the Soul of Man but Light, / Drawn down from thy transcendant height? / What but an Intellectual Beam? / A Spark of thy immortal Flame?"
preview | full record— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)
Date: 1700, 1702
"A Beam of Hope, / Strikes thro' my Soul, like the first Infant Light, / That glanc'd upon the Chaos."
preview | full record— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)
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."
preview | full record— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)
Date: 1703, 1718
"Darkness, like that in Central Caves beneath, / Like that, which spreads the lonesome Walks of Death, / Where never Ray one Inroad made, / The Rebels Mind did swift invade."
preview | full record— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)
Date: 1706
"Every one declares against blindness, and yet who almost is not fond of that which dims his sight, and keeps the clear light out of his mind, which should lead him into truth and knowledge?"
preview | full record— Locke, John (1632-1704)
Date: 1706
In the association of ideas "unnatural connections become by custom as natural to the mind, as sun and light"
preview | full record— Locke, John (1632-1704)
Date: November 25, 1707; 1708
"Since the same Flame, by different Ways express'd, / Glows in the Heroe's and the Poet's Breast."
preview | full record— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)
Date: November 25, 1707; 1708
"Oh Seofrid! do'st thou not wonder much, / And pity my weak Temper, when thou seest me / Thus in a Moment chang'd from Hot to Cold, / My active Fancy glowing now with Hopes, / Anon thus drooping; Death in my pale Visage, / My Heart, and my chill Veins, all freezing with Despair."
preview | full record— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)