Date: First performed February 17, 1720.

"O Eudocia! / No longer now my dazled Eyes behold thee / Thro' Passion's Mists; my Soul now gazes on thee, / And sees thee lovelier in unfading Charms, / Bright as the shining Angel Host that stood!"

— Hughes, John (1678?-1720)

Date: April 18, 1721

"Must I despair then? Do not shake me thus: / My Tempest-beaten Heart is cold to Death."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1722

"[O]r that hence, as swiftly those imperceptible Messengers called animal Spirits, should, at the Nutus Animae, rush through their Meandrous Paths like Lightning, and having dispatched the Mandates of the Will, as speedily bring back their Errand to the common Sensory."

— Turner, Daniel (1667-1741)

Date: 1722

"Blush rather, that you are a Slave to Passion; / Subservient to the Wildness of your Will; / Which, like a Whirlwind, tears up all your Vertues; / And gives you not the Leisure to consider."

— Philips, Ambrose (1674-1749)

Date: 1723

"Can Lictors able in Dispute dispell / The Clouds of Errour that involve the Mind, within?"

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: February 22, 1723

"For 'tis th' infirmity of noblest minds, / When ruffled with an unexpected woe, / To speak what settled prudence wou'd conceal: / As the vex'd ocean working in a storm, / Oft brings to light the wrecks which long lay calm, / In the dark bosom of the secret deep."

— Fenton, Elijah (1683-1730)

Date: February 22, 1723

"The fair offended seems to shun me now: / How shall I calm the tempest of her Soul!"

— Fenton, Elijah (1683-1730)

Date: February 22, 1723

"Thy future doom / Thus pictur'd to my view, so wrap'd my soul / In clouds of deep despair, I strait comply'd / To give the filial pledge."

— Fenton, Elijah (1683-1730)

Date: 1724

"Your passions late were wing'd, like vengeful whirlwinds, / Now they sink, sighing, to a gale of sorrow!"

— Savage, Richard (1697/8-1743)

Date: Monday, May 25, 1724

"The Mind of Will. Weathercock is like the Sail of a great Ship, that has Room, to contain much Wind; but, having none, of its own producing, is swell'd out, by Turns, from all the Quarters of the Compass."

— Hill, Aaron (1685-1750)