Date: 1723
Her Muse may "And with thy Spells driv'st Griefs away,
Which else wou'd make my Heart their Prey"
preview | full record— Barker, Jane (1675-1743)
Date: February 22, 1723
"My favours shall deface the memory / Of past afflictions: on a soul secure / In native innocence, or grief or joy / Shou'd make no deeper prints than air retains; / Where fleet alike the vulture and the dove, / And leave no trace."
preview | full record— Fenton, Elijah (1683-1730)
Date: February 22, 1723
"We cheat the world / With florid outside 'till we meet surprize; / Then conscience, working inward like a mole, / Crumbles the surface, and reveals the dirt / From which our actions spring."
preview | full record— Fenton, Elijah (1683-1730)
Date: February 22, 1723
'Tis in vain to boast / That reason o'er the passions holds the rein, / When quite unman'd with such a tale."
preview | full record— Fenton, Elijah (1683-1730)
Date: February 22, 1723
"The balm of sleep / Can ne'er refresh these eyes, 'till the pale hand / Of death shall draw their curtains, and exclude / The busy buzzing swarm of stinging thoughts."
preview | full record— Fenton, Elijah (1683-1730)
Date: February 22, 1723
"Heav'ns! at the sight of that celestial face, / Each savage passion from the soul retires; / As wolves forsake the fold, when first the sun / Flames o'er the eastern hills."
preview | full record— Fenton, Elijah (1683-1730)
Date: February 22, 1723
"Vouchsafe thy wretched lord a last embrace; / Whose soul is ready wing'd to wait on thine."
preview | full record— Fenton, Elijah (1683-1730)
Date: 1724
"My lord, this seems th' extravagance of passion! / When anger rushes, unrestrain'd, to action, / Like a hot steed, it stumbles in its way!"
preview | full record— Savage, Richard (1697/8-1743)
Date: 1724
"Tho' the soft dove brood, gall-less, o'er your breast, / Yet let the wary serpent arm your mind."
preview | full record— Savage, Richard (1697/8-1743)
Date: 1724
"When all at once / A thousand anxious Thoughts that slept by Day, / Swarm'd in my Brain, 'till it resembled Hell, / Hot, dark and hot: my sick Imagination, / Assisted by the Shades of Night, would give / A gloomy turn to each Idea there."
preview | full record— Jeffreys, George (1678-1755)