Date: 1773

"There may I worship, and there may'st Thou place / Thy Seat of Mercy and Thy Throne of Grace; / Yea, fix, if Christ my Advocate appear, / The dread Tribunal of Thy Justice there!"

— Byrom, John (1692-1763)

Date: 1773

"Now here, now there, the roving Fancy flies, / Till some lov'd objects strikes her wand'ring eyes, / Whose silken fetters all the senses bind, / And soft captivity involves the mind."

— Wheatley, Phillis (c.1753–1784)

Date: 1773

"Soaring though air to find the bright abode, / Th' empyreal palace of the thund'ring God, / We on thy pinions can surpass the wind, / And leave the rolling universe behind; / From star to star the mental optics rove, / Measure the skies, and range the realms above."

— Wheatley, Phillis (c.1753–1784)

Date: 1773

"Fancy might now her silken pinions try  / To rise from earth, and sweep th' expanse on high"

— Wheatley, Phillis (c.1753–1784)

Date: 1773

"But was it made for nothing else beside / Passions to draw, and Reason to be Guide? / Was so much Art employ'd to drag and drive / Nothing within the Vehicle alive? / No seated Mind that claims the moving Pew, / Master of Passions, and of Reason too?"

— Byrom, John (1692-1763)

Date: 1773

"The grand Contrivance why so well equip / With strength of Passions, rul'd by Reason's Whip?"

— Byrom, John (1692-1763)

Date: 1773

"Thus likewise, when we form to ourselves a notion of the soul, we ever represent it as a thin shade, or subtil matter; in short, as a corporeal being, if we form any image of it at all."

— Marat, Jean-Paul (1743-1793)

Date: 1773

"Nevertheless, if regular imagination requires the elasticity of our organs, it requires it in a less degree than reason; for its objects are neither necessarily dependant on each other, nor closely connected its productions are only detached parts, where the mind has nothing to do but to weave t...

— Marat, Jean-Paul (1743-1793)

Date: 1773

"Her mind, pure and spotless as new-drifted snow, cou'd not so soon be tainted."

— Hitchcock, Robert (d. 1809)

Date: 1773

"Yet of etherial temper are their souls, / And in their veins the tide of honour rolls; / And valour kindles there the hero's flame, / Contempt of death, and thirst of martial flame. / And pity melts the sympathizing breast, / Ah! fatal virtue!—for the brave distrest."

— Day, Thomas (1748-1789)