Date: 1785
"Oft as I trod my native wilds alone, / Strong gusts of thought would rise, but rise to die; / The portals of the swelling soul ne'er oped / By liberal converse, rude ideas strove / Awhile for vent, but found it not, and died."
preview | full record— Yearsley, Ann (bap. 1753, d. 1806)
Date: 1785
"He conjectured, that the soul is seated in a small gland in the brain, called the pineal gland: That there, as in her chamber of presence, she receives intelligence of every thing that affects the senses, by means of a subtile fluid contained in the nerves, called the animal spirits; and that sh...
preview | full record— Reid, Thomas (1710-1796)
Date: 1785-7, 1791, 1792
"Thus a large dumpling to its cell confin'd / (A very apt allusion to my mind)."
preview | full record— Wolcot, John, pseud. Peter Pindar, (1738-1819)
Date: 1793
"Flit, Galloway, and find / Some narrow, dirty, dungeon cave, / The picture of thy mind"
preview | full record— Burns, Robert (1759-1796)
Date: 1796
"Alas! the door is locked and bolted, as the hearts of white men are."
preview | full record— Anonymous; Kotzebue (1761-1819)
Date: 1796
"He who feels the spirit in him, will be conscious of possessing the pearl of great price, and will lock it up in the sanctuary of his heart, as his richest treasure, never to be despoiled of it by the seducing arts of false philosophy; never to exchange that pure gold, which is the same yesterda...
preview | full record— Anonymous
Date: 1800
"Every sense was an inlet of pleasure, because it was an avenue to knowledge; and my soul brooded over the world of ideas, and glowed with exultation at the grandeur and beauty of its own creations"
preview | full record— Brown, Charles Brockden (1771-1810)
Date: 1810
"And yet, my heart, within thy silent cell / Dwells a fair image which is lovelier still."
preview | full record— Hurdis, James (1763-1801)
Date: 1817
"But he, the bard of every age and clime, / Of genius fruitful, ardent and sublime, / Who, from the glowing mint of fancy, pours / No spurious metal, fused from common ores, / But gold, to matchless purity refined, / And stamp'd with all the godhead in his mind."
preview | full record— Gifford, William (1756-1826)