Date: 1762

"Till then the hope, by Damon's vows betray'd, / And wand'ring long on Passion's stormy seas, / By his unerring guidance safely led, / Shall fix her anchor on the rock of Peace."

— Carter, Elizabeth (1717-1806)

Date: w. 1741, 1762

"Thou restless fluctuating Deep, / Expressive of the human Mind, / In thy for ever varying Form, / My own inconstant Self I find."

— Carter, Elizabeth (1717-1806)

Date: w. 1741, 1762

"Blest Emblem of that equal State, / Which I this Moment feel within: / Where Thought to Thought succeeding rolls, / And all is placid and serene."

— Carter, Elizabeth (1717-1806)

Date: 1662, 1762

"My soul melteth away for very heaviness: comfort thou me according unto thy word."

— The Church of England

Date: 1765

Thought may melt

— Collins, William (1721-1759)

Date: 1765

"Reason in the bosom pours, / Its growth improves, its fruit matures, / Each counsel of the human brain / Weighs in his scale, and stamps it vain?"

— Merrick, James (1720-1769)

Date: 1771

"He thinks nothing more absurd than the common notion of Instruction, as if Science were to be poured into the Mind, like water into a cistern, that passively waits to receive all that comes."

— Harris, James (1709-1780)

Date: 1771

"Now as our Feet in vain venture to walk upon the River, till the Frost bind the Current, and harden the yielding Surface; so does the SOUL in vain seek to exert its higher Powers, the Powers I mean of REASON and INTELLECT, till IMAGINATION first fix the fluency of SENSE, and thus provide ...

— Harris, James (1709-1780)

Date: 1755, 1771

"The' etherial soul that Heaven itself inspires / With all its virtues, and with all its fires, / Led by these sirens to some wild extreme, / Sets in a vapour when it ought to beam; / Like a Dutch sun that in the' autumnal sky / Looks through a fog, and rises but to die."

— Cawthorn, James (1719-1761)

Date: 1771, 1816

"Thus man [like a cataract], the harpy of his own content, / With blust'ring passions, phrensically bent, / Wild in the rapid vortex whirls the soul, / Till reason bursts, impatient of controul."

— Maude, Thomas (1718-1798)