"O, come; indignant, drive out, far beyond/ The utmost Precincts of the human Breast, / Beyond the Springs of Hope, the Cells of Joy, / And ev'ry Mansion where a Virtue lives; / O drive far off, for ever drive that Bane, / That hideous Pest, engender'd deep in Hell, / Where Stygian Glooms condens'd dimension'd Darkness, / Contains, within its dire Embrace, that Monster / Horrid to Sight, and by the frighted Furies / In their dread Pannic Superstition nam'd!"
— Jones, Henry (1721-1770)
No dreadful Phantom to the frighted Eye,
No Terror to the Soul; 'tis Transport all!
Here Fancy roves, in sweet Variety
For ever lost; her native Bliss. For her,
The blue ethereal Arch expands; her Table
Spread out with all the Dainties of the Sky,
Imagination's rich Regale. For her
The Clouds absorb the Ev'ning Ray; and drink
The liquid Gold, which stains their fleecy Sides
With all the Tincts of Heav'n, transmitted through
A thousand diff'rent Strainers to the Eye,
And thence upon the ravish'd Soul diffus'd.
The blushing Beauties of the infant Morn,
Aurora's Saffron Beam; the splendid Bow,
Whose copious Arch was bent by Hands divine,
An Emblem form'd of half Eternity,
By Angels robe'd in all the Aggregate,
Th' unblended Aggregate, of various Day,
Of Heav'n's own Day; and from its Sun-beams drawn,
In all its Tinges dipt, its Glories dress'd.
For her, the smiling Earth puts on her Mantle;
Her Mantle green, with purple mix'd, with Gold,
With all the Liv'ries of the youthful Spring,
To wake new Raptures in the Heart of Man;
And fill his Soul with Gratitude immense.
All these are Reason's Treasures, Stores of Thought;
Reflection's unexhausted Funds, replete
With Matter for her own delightful Task.
Here Wisdom works at large; here smiling builds,
For sweet Content, a homely Shed; where Joy,
Where Gladness, visit oft her temp'rate Guests,
And make their willing Stay: here, undisturb'd,
They reign, they revel, take their Fill of all
That Nature (ever bounteous Mother) yields,
For Use or Pleasure: but Excess avoid;
That Fiend accurs'd, whose bloated Visage wan,
And troubled Eye, betray her inward Pang,
Which shakes severe her paralytic Nerve,
Her tott'ring Frame; e'er Death, by Nature taught,
And Time, in Season due, with gentle Hand
Can cut the wasted Thread: Excess usurps
With Force th' abortive Task, and vindicates
Her Prey--Come all, ye Family of Joy;
Ye Children of the chearful Hour, begot
By Wisdom on the virtuous Mind; O, come!
Come Innocence, in conscious Strength secure;
Come Courage, foremost in the manly Train;
Come all; and in the honest Heart abide,
Your native Residence, your Fortress still,
From real or from fancy'd Evils free:
O, come; indignant, drive out, far beyond
The utmost Precincts of the human Breast,
Beyond the Springs of Hope, the Cells of Joy,
And ev'ry Mansion where a Virtue lives;
O drive far off, for ever drive that Bane,
That hideous Pest, engender'd deep in Hell,
Where Stygian Glooms condens'd dimension'd Darkness,
Contains, within its dire Embrace, that Monster
Horrid to Sight, and by the frighted Furies
In their dread Pannic Superstition nam'd!
The Relief; or, Day Thoughts: A Poem. Occasioned by the Complaint, or Night Thoughts (London: Printed for J. Robinson, 1754).