Date: 1771, 1776

"Thus Heaven enlarged his soul in riper years. / For Nature gave him strength, and fire, to soar, / On Fancy's wing, above this vale of tears."

— Beattie, James (1735-1803)

Date: 1771, 1776

"To the pure soul by Fancy's fire refined, / Ah what is mirth but turbulence unholy, / When with the charm compared of heavenly melancholy!"

— Beattie, James (1735-1803)

Date: 1771, 1776

"Sooth'd by the lulling sound of grove and stream / Romantick visions swarm on Edwin's soul."

— Beattie, James (1735-1803)

Date: 1771, 1776

"'The gusts of appetite, the clouds of care, / 'And storms of disappointment, all o'erpast, / 'Henceforth no earthly hope with heaven shall share / 'This heart, where peace serenely shines at last."

— Beattie, James (1735-1803)

Date: 1771, 1776

"'Could History man's secret heart reveal, / 'And what imports a heaven-born mind to learn, / 'Her transcripts to explore what bosom would not yearn!"

— Beattie, James (1735-1803)

Date: 1771, 1776

"'Fancy enervates, while it sooths, the heart, / 'And, while it dazzles, wounds the mental sight: / 'To joy each heightening charm it can impart, / 'But wraps the hour of wo in tenfold night."

— Beattie, James (1735-1803)

Date: 1771, 1776

"The gloomy race / 'By Indolence and moping Fancy bred, / 'Fear, Discontent, Solicitude give place, / 'And Hope and Courage brighten in their stead, / 'While on the kindling soul her vital beams are shed."

— Beattie, James (1735-1803)

Date: 1771, 1776

"The mind untaught / 'Is a dark waste, where fiends and tempests howl; / 'As Phebus to the world, is Science to the soul."

— Beattie, James (1735-1803)

Date: 1771, 1776

"And Reason now through Number, Time, and Space, / 'Darts the keen lustre of her serious eye, / 'And learns, from facts compared, the laws to trace, / 'Whose long progression leads to Deity."

— Beattie, James (1735-1803)

Date: 1771, 1776

"Fancy now no more / Wantons on fickle pinion through the skies; / But, fix'd in aim, and conscious of her power, / Sublime from cause to cause exults to rise, / Creation's blended stores arranging as she flies."

— Beattie, James (1735-1803)