Date: 1696

"But 'tis a pleasure more than life can give, / That with unconquer'd Passion to the last, / You struggle still, and fain wou'd hold me to you."

— Southerne, Thomas (1659-1746)

Date: 1701

Reason may be "conquer'd by more powerful Love"

— Sherburne, Sir Edward (bap. 1616, d. 1702)

Date: 1702

"But see! the Sultan comes!--my beating Heart / Bounds with exulting Motion, Hope, and Fear, / Fight with alternate conquest in my Breast."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1703

"Calista now be wary, / And guard thy Soul's Accesses with Dissembling; / Nor let this Hostile Husband's Eyes explore / The warring Passions, and tumultuous Thoughts, / That rage within thee, and deform thy Reason."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1703

"Now as thou art a Man, Horatio, tell me, / What means this wild Confusion in thy Looks? / As if thou wert at variance with thy self, / Madness and Reason combating within thee, / And thou wert doubtful which shou'd get the better."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: November 25, 1707; 1708

"Not all those warring Elements we fear, / Are equal to the inborn Tempest here; / Fierce as the Thoughts which mortal Man controul, / When Love and Rage contend, and tear the lab'ring Soul."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: November 25, 1707; 1708

"Oh let me sink, / With all these warring Thoughts together in me, / Blushing to Earth, and hide the vast Confusion."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: November 25, 1707; 1708

"That wrathful Frown, / Your Eyes fierce glancing, and your changing Visage, / Now pale as Death, now purpled o'er with Flame, / Give me to know your Passions are at odds, / And your whole Soul is up in Arms within."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1713

"Now, Marcus, now, thy Virtue's on the Proof: / Put forth thy utmost Strength, work ev'ry Nerve, / And call up all thy Father in thy Soul: / To quell the Tyrant Love, and guard thy Heart / On this weak Side, where most our Nature fails, / Would be a Conquest worthy Cato's Son."

— Addison, Joseph (1672-1719)

Date: 1714

"Oh Jealousie! Thou Bane of pleasing Friendship, / Thou worst Invader of our tender Bosoms; / How does thy Rancour poison all our Softness, / And turn our gentle Natures into Bitterness."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)