Date: 1803

"As languid on the banks I lie reclined, / Half-formed ideas melting in my mind; / The maddening cattle hurry to the wood / Or, stung with swarming insects, seek the flood."

— Wilson, John, Scottish Poet (1720-1789)

Date: 1803

"A Whirlpool swallowing up each awful thought / That Heav'n had stamp'd, or education taught."

— Woodhouse, James (bap. 1735, d. 1820)

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: 1807-8

"So minds debas'd can torture gen'rous acts: / And thus, by terrors haunted, hunger-pinch'd, / Hag-ridden by the demon at their hearts, / Suspicious, tost from thought to thought, they watch'd / The lagging hours of night"

— Burges, Sir James Bland (1752-1824)

Date: 1816

"[T]ort'ring pangs" and inexplicable woe may "like a torrent" overwhelm the soul

— Burges, Sir James Bland (1752-1824)

Date: 1850

"Behold an emblem of our human mind / Crowded with thoughts that need a settled home, / Yet, like to eddying balls of foam / Within this whirlpool, they each other chase / Round and round, and neither find / An outlet nor a resting-place!"

— Wordsworth, William (1770-1850)

Date: 1868

"And images, that, in the musing mind, / As in a placid lake, lie mirrored and defined, / If ruffling winds along the surface stray, / Scatter'd and broken, pass like rack away"

— Lyte, Henry Francis (1793-1847)

Date: April 26 1870

"For is there hue or shape defin'd / In Jenny's desecrated mind, / Where all contagious currents meet, / A Lethe of the middle street?"

— Rossetti, Dante Gabriel (1828-1882)

Date: 1890

"Have you got a brook in your little heart, / Where bashful flowers blow, / And blushing birds go down to drink, / And shadows tremble so?"

— Dickinson, Emily (1830-1886)

Date: 1890

"The wizard-fingers never rest, / The purple brook within the breast / Still chafes its narrow bed."

— Dickinson, Emily (1830-1886)