Date: 1692

"How long great God, how must I / Immur'd in this dark Prison lye! / Where at the Grates and Avenues of sense / My Soul must watch to have intelligence."

— Norris, John (1657-1712)

Date: 1693

"Receive thy sight! / 'Tis said, 'tis done, a thick and churlish skin / Which stop'd the windows of his Soul within, / Flew off."

— Wesley, Samuel, The Elder (bap. 1662, d. 1735)

Date: 1695

Active spirits fly "To the round Palace of th' Immortal Soul, / And thro' the Rooms and dark Apartments roll."

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1695

"The busie Crowd fills all the labouring Brain, / Bright Fancy's Work-house, where close Cells contain / Of Forms and Images an endless Train, / Which thither thro' the waking Senses glide, / And in fair Mem'ry's Magazine abide."

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1695

"Compos'd of these, light Scenes and Shows appear, / Which still employ the restless Theater. / Divinely mov'd, the Airy Figures take / Their several Ranks, and this bright Vision make."

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1696

"Poor thredbare Vertue ne'er admir'd in Court. / But seeks its Refuge in an honest Mind, / There it securely dwells, / Like Anchorets in Cells / Where no Ambition nor wild Lust resorts."

— Tutchin, John (1661-1707)

Date: November 18, 1697

"But when they read the Volumes of his Mind, / (Vast Tomes!) and Search'd the Closets of his Brain, / What endless Sums of Wisdom did they find?"

— Cobb, Samuel (bap. 1675, d. 1713)

Date: 1697

"Our Senses to the Mind while lodg'd in Clay, / Do all their various Images convey. / Things that we tast, and feel, and see, afford / The Seeds of Thought with which our Minds are stor'd."

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1697

"Oh, let no groundless Prejudice oppose / The Light, that from so pure a Fountain flows. / May these kind Beams dispel the Clouds, and find / An unobstructed Passage to your Mind."

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1697

"Thro' Helm and Skull the Fauchion passage found, / Cleft thro' the Brain, and ruin'd with the Wound / The curious Imag'ry by Fancy wrought, / All Mem'ry's Cells, and all the Moulds of Thought."

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)