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: 1711

"When Fancy makes superior Flight her Aim, / Wing'd with this vig'rous, clear seraphick Flame, / She ranges Nature's universal Frame; / Bright Seeds of Thought from various Objects takes, / Whence her fair Scenes and Images she makes: / Spirits so swift, so fine, so bold, so strong, / Gave Milton...

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1711

"Your Hearts, as barren as your Rocks and Sand, / Her Charms and pow'rful Influence withstand; / Whose heav'nly Rays defeated thence recoil, / Like Sun-Beams wasted on unfruitful Soil."

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1711

"These Spirits rais'd from Choler to the Brain, / Like those extracted from the basest Grain, / Impure and crude, produce unnatural Heat, / And an ignoble Flame of Life create."

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1712

"The Crimson Jets rais'd with Elastic Force / Swift to the Seats of Sense pursue their Course; / Arterial Streams thro' the soft Brain diffuse, / And water all its Fields with vital Dews."

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1718

"Knowledge Divine they by degrees bestow'd, / And with blest Seed your Heart industrious sow'd, / Whence verdant Issues soon began to shoot; / A Bloom ensu'd, that promis'd generous Fruit."

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1718

"Drawn by their Pray'r, from Heav'n descending Dews / Cheer the fair Plant, and Heat Divine infuse: / While watchful they destroy'd the springing Weeds, / Baneful to Virtue, which our Bosom breeds, / Nature's spontaneous Growth, that no Assistant needs."

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1718

"A Blow of Virtues, all of heav'nly Kind, / Mingled their Beauties, and adorn'd your Mind."

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1718

"You from your Breast must root Religion's Weed, / Not only sin, but disbelieve your Creed."

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1718

"May not this cheering Breath, this soothing Air, / Nourish too fast Vain-Glory's secret Root, / And make its rank pernicious Branches shoot, / Till on your Mind they baneful Blossoms spread, / And drop malignant Dews on Virtue's tender Head?"

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)