Date: 1787

"Fat flattens the most brilliant thoughts, / Like the buff-stop on harpsichords, or spinets-- / Muffling their pretty little tuneful throats, / That would have chirp'd away like linnets."

— Wolcot, John, pseud. Peter Pindar, (1738-1819)

Date: 1788

"What glittering adders lurk to sting the mind!"

— Richardson, Joseph (1755-1803)

Date: 1788

"Thou, who, for noble faults like these, too cold, / Whose vices n'er aspire, but stoop to gold, / That groveling passion of the sordid breast, / Like Aaron's serpent swallowing up the rest."

— Pratt, Samuel Jackson [pseud. Courtney Melmoth] (1749-1814)

Date: 1788

"Who for such perishable gaudes would put / A yoke upon his free unbroken spirit, / And gall himself with trammels and the rubs / Of this world's business; so he might stand clear / Of judgment and the tax of idleness / In that dread audit, when his mortal hours / (Which now with soft and silent ...

— Crowe, William (1745-1829)

Date: 1788

"While, seeking pleasures, and avoiding pains, / Will whips, or curbs, as reason holds the reins."

— Woodhouse, James (bap. 1735, d. 1820)

Date: 1789

"'Tis [the letter of the law] the birdlime of reason to fasten our senses."

— Williams, John [pseud. Anthony Pasquin] (1754-1818)

Date: w. 1789, 1804

"While Vanity unveils her whiffling flags, / Her glittering trinkets, and her tawdry rags-- / Spreads spangled nets, and fills her philter'd bowl, / To fix each Sense, and fascinate the Soul-- / Her birdlime twigs contrived with such sly Art, / That while they tangle thoughts, they trap the heart...

— Woodhouse, James (bap. 1735, d. 1820)

Date: 1790

"The passions join the fierce invading host; / And I and virtue are o'erwhelm'd and lost-- / Passions that in a martingale should move; / Wild horses loosen'd by the hands of Love."

— Wolcot, John, pseud. Peter Pindar, (1738-1819)

Date: 1790, 1794, 1795, 1818, 1827

"The man who never alters his opinion is like standing water, & breeds reptiles of the mind."

— Blake, William (1757-1827)

Date: 1790

'While we converse together, and I feel / 'Secret correction from the bolt of truth / 'Shot home, my better soul in triumph rides, / Borne on the wings of reason to her throne."

— Hurdis, James (1763-1801)