Date: 1805

"Shall she pronounce that generous Heart / A store-room vile of selfish Art?"

— Pratt, Samuel Jackson [pseud. Courtney Melmoth] (1749-1814)

Date: 1806

"But when thy true poetic lays, / Pierce to the Heart's remotest cell; / We feel the conscious innate praise"

— Robinson [Née Darby], Mary [Perdita] (1758-1800)

Date: 1807-8

"[T]hrough the cells / And channels of his phrensy-stricken brain / Rage and confusion rush'd; the solemn peal / Broke on his ear like his salvation's knell, / Whilst his vext conscience struggled, but too late, / To rend th' insatiate demon from his heart"

— Burges, Sir James Bland (1752-1824)

Date: 1815

"Is Man to say--I've reach'd the goal, / I'll now dismiss th'imprison'd soul; / With my own hand I'll ope the way / From its base tenement of clay."

— Combe, William (1742 -1823)

Date: 1815

"With my own hand I'll ope the way / From its base tenement of clay; / Tir'd of its suff'rings here below, / I'll loose it from this scene of woe; / I'll prune its wings and let it fly, / To seek again its native sky."

— Combe, William (1742 -1823)

Date: 1815?

"Strait to her chamber, yester-eve, / Had she retreated from the cave, / And, wildering in a maze of thought, / Fear'd every hour with danger fraught"

— Polwhele, Richard (1760-1838)

Date: 1817

"Nor should we pass the secret cell, / Where lonely Science loves to dwell, / Pleas'd, from its lamp, to cast the ray / That lights the mind's beclouded day."

— Combe, William (1742 -1823)