Date: 1700, 1705
"Sense without Wit is Flegmatick and pale, / And is all Head, forsooth, without a Tail: / Wit without Sense is Cholerick and Red, / Has Tail enough indeed, but has no Head."
preview | full record— Defoe, Daniel (1660?-1731)
Date: 1700, 1705
"Wit, like the jangling Chimes, rings all in one, / Till Sense, the Artist, sets them into Tune."
preview | full record— Defoe, Daniel (1660?-1731)
Date: 1700, 1705
"Wit, like the Belly, if it be not fed, / Will starve the Members, and distract the Head."
preview | full record— Defoe, Daniel (1660?-1731)
Date: 1700, 1705
"Wit is the Fruitful Womb where Thoughts conceive, / Sense is the Vital Heat which Life and Form must give: / Wit is the Teeming Mother brings them forth, / Sense is the Active Father gives them Worth."
preview | full record— Defoe, Daniel (1660?-1731)
Date: 1706, 1709
"We are a little Kingdom; But the Man / That chains his Rebel Will to Reasons Throne, / Forms it a large one."
preview | full record— Watts, Isaac (1674-1748)
Date: 1706, 1709
"But Charms so much divine / Hold a long Empire of the Heart."
preview | full record— Watts, Isaac (1674-1748)
Date: 1706, 1709
"In vain the Harlot Pleasure spreads her Charms / To lull his Thoughts in Luxuries fair Lap / To sensual Ease, (the Bane of little Kings, / Monarchs whose waxen Images of Souls / Are moulded into Softness) still his Mind / Wears its own Shape."
preview | full record— Watts, Isaac (1674-1748)
Date: 1706
"Till hard despair wring from the tyrant's soul / The iron tears out."
preview | full record— Watts, Isaac (1674-1748)
Date: 1706
"The Marble Heart groans with an inward Wound: / Blaspheming Souls of harden'd Steel / Shriek out amaz'd at the new Pangs they feel, / And dread the Eccho's of the Sound."
preview | full record— Watts, Isaac (1674-1748)
Date: 1706
"But FANCY, that unease Guest / Still holds a Lodging in our Beast; / She finds or frames Vexations still, / Her self the greatest Plague we feel."
preview | full record— Watts, Isaac (1674-1748)