Date: 1600

"So will I grow, so live, so die, my lord, / Ere I will yield my virgin patent up / Unto his lordship whose unwishèd yoke / My soul consents not to give sovereignty."

— Shakespeare, William (1564-1616)

Date: 1706, 1715 [1706-1721]

"At the sight of this object I am not my own master: my soul is disturbed and rebels, and I fancy it has a mind to leave me!"

— Anonymous

Date: 1742

"It makes us wander; wander earth around / To fly that tyrant, Thought."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1742

"Lorenzo! no; the thought of death indulge; / Give it its wholesome empire! let it reign, / That kind chastiser of thy soul in joy!"

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1742

"Its reign will spread thy glorious conquests far, / And still the tumults of thy ruffled breast: / Auspicious era! golden days, begin!"

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1742

"Is not the mighty mind, that son of heaven, / By tyrant Life dethroned, imprison'd, pain'd? / By Death enlarged, ennobled, deified? / Death but entombs the body; Life, the soul."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1742

"While o'er my limbs Sleep's soft dominion spread, / What though my soul fantastic measures trod / O'er fairy fields; or mourn'd along the gloom / Of pathless woods; or, down the craggy steep / Hurl'd headlong, swam with pain the mantled pool; / Or scaled the cliff; or danced on hollow winds, / W...

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1742

"So bounded are its haughty lord's delights / To Woe's wide empire; where deep troubles toss, / Loud sorrows howl, envenom'd passions bite, / Ravenous calamities our vitals seize, / And threatening fate wide opens to devour."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1743

"Pleasure and Pride, by nature mortal foes, / At war eternal which in man shall reign, / By Wit's address, patch up a fatal peace, / And hand in hand lead on the rank debauch, / From rank refined to delicate and gay."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)

Date: 1743

"Darkness has more divinity for me: / It strikes thought inward; it drives back the soul / To settle on herself, our point supreme! / There lies our theatre; there sits our judge."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)