Date: 1724

"yet the soul, / Like a soft babe, inur'd to foolish fondness, / Is hard to wean from wailing."

— Savage, Richard (1697/8-1743)

Date: 1724

"My thoughts are furies all!--and turn upon me! / I feel their whips!--They lash me with remorse! / My brain grows hot!--Hell glows in my mad bosom!"

— Savage, Richard (1697/8-1743)

Date: 1778

"And if, O love, thy potent dart / Should reach the sleeping shepherd's heart, / O! be to him a gentler guest, / And pierce, with lighter shaft, his breast."

— Robinson [Née Darby], Mary [Perdita] (1758-1800)

Date: 1820

"Clothe it in words, and bid it clasp his throne / In intercession; bend thy soul in prayer, / And like a suppliant in some gorgeous fane, / Let the will kneel within thy haughty heart."

— Shelley, Percy Bysshe (1792-1822)

Date: 1820

"Yet am I king over myself, and rule / The torturing and conflicting throngs within, / As Jove rules you when Hell grows mutinous."

— Shelley, Percy Bysshe (1792-1822)

Date: 1820

"And we breathe, and sicken not, / The atmosphere of human thought: / Be it dim, and dank, and gray, / Like a storm-extinguished day, / Travelled o'er by dying gleams; / Be it bright as all between / Cloudless skies and windless streams, / Silent, liquid, and serene; / As the birds within the win...

— Shelley, Percy Bysshe (1792-1822)