Date: 1744, 1772, 1795

"Passion's fierce illapse / Rouzes the mind's whole fabric; with supplies / Of daily impulse keeps the elastic powers / Intensely poiz'd, and polishes anew / By that collision all the fine machine: / Else rust would rise, and foulness, by degrees / Incumbering, choak at last what heaven design'd ...

— Akenside, Mark (1720-1771)

Date: 1744, 1772, 1795

"Then listen while my tongue / The unalter'd will of heaven with faithful awe / Reveals; what old Harmodius wont to teach / My early age; Harmodius, who had weigh'd / Within his learned mind whate'er the schools / Of wisdom, or thy lonely-whispering voice, / O faithful nature! dictate of the laws...

— Akenside, Mark (1720-1771)

Date: 1744, 1772, 1795

"He spoke; abash'd and silent I remain'd, / As conscious of my tongue's offence, and aw'd / Before his presence, though my secret soul / Disdain'd the imputation."

— Akenside, Mark (1720-1771)

Date: 1744, 1772, 1795

"Oft misled / By that bland light, the young unpractis'd views / Of reason wander through a fatal road, / Far from their native aim."

— Akenside, Mark (1720-1771)

Date: 1744, 1772, 1795

"The immortal mind, superior to his fate, / Amid the outrage of external things, / Firm as the solid base of this great world, / Rests on his own foundations."

— Akenside, Mark (1720-1771)

Date: 1744, 1772, 1795

"Defil'd to such a depth of sordid shame / The native honours of the human soul, / Nor so effac'd the image of its sire."

— Akenside, Mark (1720-1771)

Date: 1744, 1772, 1795

"From the wise be far / Such gross unhallow'd pride; nor needs my song / Descend so low; but rather now unfold, / If human thought could reach, or words unfold, / By what mysterious fabric of the mind, / The deep-felt joys and harmony of sound / Result from airy motion; and from shape / The lovel...

— Akenside, Mark (1720-1771)

Date: 1744, 1772, 1795

"Men learn to judge of beauty, and acquire / Those forms set up, as idols in the soul / For love and zealous praise."

— Akenside, Mark (1720-1771)

Date: 1745

"But when the Practice comes; when our fond Passions, / Pleasure and Pride and Self-Indulgence throw / Their magic Dust around, the Prospect roughens: / Then dreadful Passes, craggy Mountains rise, / Cliffs to be scal'd, and Torrents to be stem'd."

— Thomson, James (1700-1748)

Date: 1745

"Distraction!--O my Soul!--Hold, Reason, hold / Thy giddy Seat--O this inhuman Outrage / Unhinges Thought!"

— Thomson, James (1700-1748)