Date: 1719

"He forms our generals for the field, / With all their dreadful skill; / Gives them his awful sword to wield, / And makes their hearts of steel."

— Watts, Isaac (1674-1748)

Date: 1721

"My Heart do's like soft Wax relent, / And midst my Bowels flow"

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1721

"Bless God, who did not give our Soul / To their sharp Teeth a Prey."

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1721

"Our Soul, as from a broken Snare / A Bird escapes, is fled."

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1765

"In Christ, his work and word / I trust, why should ye say, / That like a tim'rous bird / My soul must wing her way, / And flee from those, whose deadly skill / At worst can but the body kill?"

— Smart, Christopher (1722-1771)

Date: 1765

"In Christ, his work and word / I trust, why should ye say, / That like a tim'rous bird / My soul must wing her way, / And flee from those, whose deadly skill / At worst can but the body kill?"

— Smart, Christopher (1722-1771)

Date: 1765

"O God, to what a pitch are wrought / The councils of omniscient thought."

— Smart, Christopher (1722-1771)

Date: 1765

"And my heart, within me burning, / Is become like melting wax."

— Smart, Christopher (1722-1771)

Date: 1765

"That fruit thy covenant may yield, / Which is upon my forehead seal'd, / And on my heart ingraft."

— Smart, Christopher (1722-1771)

Date: 1765

"The man is blessed, as he prays, / Whose reins thy strength receive, / And in whose heart thy word and ways / A deep impression leave."

— Smart, Christopher (1722-1771)