Date: First performed February 17, 1720.

"Then say, Eudocia, / If, like a Soul anneal'd in purging Fires, / After whole Years thou see'st me white again, / When thou, ev'n thou shalt think."

— Hughes, John (1678?-1720)

Date: 1727

"The Doctrine of the Soul's being a Shell or Case form'd into a Shape, as a Mould is form'd into Shape to receive the Brass or Copper, and throw out a Statue or Figure of this or that Heroe, which it is appointed to form; I say, this absurd Doctrine of the Soul, Body and Mind being three distinct...

— Defoe, Daniel (1660?-1731)

Date: 1734

"Conscience hears / The words of anguish, and dissolves in tears. / Ev'n iron souls relent, and hearts of stone / Burst at these mournings, and repeat the groan:"

— Watts, Isaac (1674-1748)

Date: 1734

"Is then my heart to all the world beside / Softer than melting wax or summer snow, / But to myself harder than adamant?"

— Watts, Isaac (1674-1748)

Date: 1735

"Such was the Turn of thy exalted Mind, / Sparkling as polish'd Gems, as purest Gold refin'd."

— Hughes, John (1678?-1720)

Date: 1735

"Impenetrable Courage steels his manly Breast"

— Hughes, John (1678?-1720)

Date: 1735

"Her lovely Mind shines chearful thro' her Face, / A sacred Lamp in a fair Crystal Case."

— Hughes, John (1678?-1720)

Date: 1737 (also 1738, 1743, reprinted 1754)

"Curst with such souls of base alloy, / As can possess, but not enjoy, / Debarr'd the pleasure to impart / By av'rice, sphincter of the heart, / Who wealth, hard earn'd by guilty cares, / Bequeath untouch'd to thankless heirs."

— Green, Matthew (1696-1737)

Date: 1744, 1772, 1795

"'Twas thus, if ancient fame the truth unfold, / Two faithful needles, from the informing touch / Of the same parent-stone, together drew / Its mystic virtue, and at first conspir'd / With fatal impulse quivering to the pole."

— Akenside, Mark (1720-1771)

Date: 1744, 1772, 1795

"Passion's fierce illapse / Rouzes the mind's whole fabric; with supplies / Of daily impulse keeps the elastic powers / Intensely poiz'd, and polishes anew / By that collision all the fine machine: / Else rust would rise, and foulness, by degrees / Incumbering, choak at last what heaven design'd ...

— Akenside, Mark (1720-1771)