Date: 1678

"But Fancy, I think, in Poetry, is like Faith in Religion; it makes far discoveries, and soars above reason, but never clashes, or runs against it. Fancy leaps, and frisks, and away she's gone; whilst reason rattles the chains, and follows after."

— Rymer, Thomas (1641-1713)

Date: 1693

"But this small Out-let to my Passion gave it but little ease, a thousand distracting Thoughts turn'd my Mind to e'ry side, not permitting it to fix on any thing, yet all tended to the Contrivance of the satisfaction of my too impatient desires."

— Anonymous

Date: 1693

"O're Loves unbeaten Wilds, I plaid and rang'd. / Whilst at our Mouths, our wandring Souls w' exchang'd."

— Anonymous

Date: 1696

"I cou'd resolve it soon, / Were this curst Being only in Debate. / But my Imoinda struggles in my Soul."

— Southerne, Thomas (1659-1746)

Date: 1702

"My Heart beats higher, and my nimble Spirits / Ride swiftly thro' their purple Channels round: / 'Tis the last blaze of Life: Nature revives / Like a dim, winking Lamp, that flashes brightly / With parting Light, and strait is dark for ever."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1700, 1702

"Each busie thought, that rouls within her breast, / Labours for him; the King, when first he sicken'd, / Declar'd he should succeed him in the Throne."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1700, 1702

"But whither does my roving fancy wander?"

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1703

"Oh wretched Husband! while she hangs about thee / With idle Blandishments, and plays the fond one, / Ev'n then her hot Imagination wanders, / Contriving Riot, and loose scapes of Love."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1703

"Trust not to that; / Rage is the shortest Passion of our Souls, / Like narrow Brooks that rise with sudden Show'rs, / It swells in haste, and falls again as soon; / Still as it ebbs the softer Thoughts flow in, / And the Deceiver Love supplies its place."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1703

"I thought that nothing cou'd have stay'd my Soul, / That long e'er this her Flight had reach'd the Stars; / But thy known Voice has lur'd her back again."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)