Date: 1704

"Charity, decent, modest, easy, kind, / Softens the high, and rears the abject Mind; / Knows with just Reins, and gentle Hand to guide, / Betwixt vile Shame, and arbitrary Pride."

— Prior, Matthew (1664-1721)

Date: w. c. 1709, 1711

"Tis more to guide, than spur the Muse's steed; / Restrain his fury, than provoke his speed; / The winged courser, like a gen'rous horse, / Shows most true mettle when you check his course."

— Pope, Alexander (1688-1744)

Date: w. 1702-1713, 1989

"So the brave Falcon when its glorys fade / When its strong wings their generous forces shed / The vacant holds ignobler birds supply / With Ravens feathers impd she mounts on high / & weak or giddy strayes along the sky."

— Parnell, Thomas (1679-1718)

Date: 1716

"Their Conscience is a Worm within, / That gnaws them Night and Day."

— Pope, Alexander (1688-1744)

Date: 1718

"And yet, slap dash, is All again / In every Sinew, Nerve, and Vein. / [the mind] Runs here and there, like Hamlet's Ghost; / While every where She rules the roast."

— Prior, Matthew (1664-1721)

Date: 1718

"As in a Hive's vimineous Dome, / Ten thousand Bees enjoy their Home; / Each does her studious Action vary, / To go and come, to fetch and carry: / Each still renews her little Labor; / Nor justles her assiduous Neighbour."

— Prior, Matthew (1664-1721)

Date: 1718

"Your Horace owns, He various writ, / As wild, or sober Maggots bit: / And, where too much the Poet ranted, / The Sage Philosopher recanted."

— Prior, Matthew (1664-1721)

Date: March 13, 1727

"Must these like empty shadows pass, / Or forms reflected from a glass? / Or mere chimeras in the mind, / That fly, and leave no marks behind?"

— Swift, Jonathan (1667-1745)

Date: 1728, 1729, 1736

"She form'd this image of well-bodied air, / With pert flat eyes she window'd well its head, / A brain of feathers, and a heart of lead, / And empty words she gave, and sounding strain, / But senseless, lifeless! idol void and vain!"

— Pope, Alexander (1688-1744)

Date: 1733-4

"And hence one Master Passion in the breast, / Like Aaron's serpent, swallows up the rest."

— Pope, Alexander (1688-1744)