Date: 1751, 1791

"Some few there are of sordid mould, / Who barter youth and bloom for gold; / Careless with what, or whom they mate, / Their ruling passion's all for state."

— Cotton, Nathaniel, the elder (1705-1788)

Date: 1751, 1791

"To Fancy's court we strait apply, / And wait the sentence of her eye."

— Cotton, Nathaniel, the elder (1705-1788)

Date: 1751, 1791

"The passions are a num'rous crowd, / Imperious, positive, and loud: / Curb these licentious sons of strife; / Hence chiefly rise the storms of life: / If they grow mutinous, and rave, / They are thy masters, thou their slave."

— Cotton, Nathaniel, the elder (1705-1788)

Date: 1751, 1791

"That Breast, where Honour builds his Throne, / That Breast, which Virtue calls her own."

— Cotton, Nathaniel, the elder (1705-1788)

Date: 1752, 1791

"The brain's an useless organ grown, / And Reason tumbled from his throne."

— Cotton, Nathaniel, the elder (1705-1788)

Date: 1752, 1791

"Know too, the joys of sense controul, / And clog the motions of the soul; / Forbid her pinions to aspire, / Damp and impair her native fire: / And sure as Sense (that tyrant!) reigns, / She holds the empress, Soul, in chains."

— Cotton, Nathaniel, the elder (1705-1788)