Date: 1718

"The Foe has secret Friends within your Breast, / Perfidious Passions, which dissemble Rest / All these, should you approach her Camp too near, / Rising in Arms, against you will declare."

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1718

"By this strong Party lurking in your Heart, / Reason seduc'd, will to her Side desert."

— 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)

Date: 1718

"And now the fair Ideas, which possest / Your Mind, by loose and vicious Thoughts opprest, / How will you wing your Way to Realms above, / And feast your Soul with Extasies of Love"

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1721

"My Heart do's like soft Wax relent, / And midst my Bowels flow"

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1721

" Oh! seal me, stamp me on thy tender Mind, / And leave the strong Impression deep behind."

— Croxall, Samuel (1688/9-1752); Nestor Ironside

Date: 1721

"This, of all Vice, does most debase the Mind, / Gold is itself th'Allay to Human-kind."

— Sheffield, John, first duke of Buckingham and Normanby (1647-1721)

Date: 1721

"Bless God, who did not give our Soul / To their sharp Teeth a Prey."

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1721

"Our Soul, as from a broken Snare / A Bird escapes, is fled."

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)