page 13 of 68     per page:
sorted by:

Date: 1685

"Sure there's a lethargy in mighty woe, / Tears stand congealed, and cannot flow; / And the sad soul retires into her inmost room"

— Dryden, John (1631-1700)

preview | full record

Date: 1685

"Thy prefence-Chamber is the Room / VVhere Soules and Joyes do meet"

— Mason, John (1646?-1694)

preview | full record

Date: 1685

Tho' a World of dull Bullion your essence do's hold, / Scarce an Atom of Soul was cast into the Mould, / Room enough, and to spare lavish Nature allows, / But provides not a Tenant to suit with the House

— Wesley, Samuel, The Elder (bap. 1662, d. 1735)

preview | full record

Date: 1685

"That I have sinn'd, yet sure to none of you / I ever gave offence: my sins at least, / Were acted in the closet of my breast"

— Clark, William (fl. 1663-1685)

preview | full record

Date: 1685

"Furnish the Table of my Heart, / Then come and be my Guest."

— Mason, John (1646?-1694)

preview | full record

Date: 1686

"London! joynt Favourite with Him Thou wer't; / As both possess'd a room within one heart, / So now with thine indulgent Sovereign joyn, / Respect his great Friends ashes, for He wept o're Thine."

— Flatman, Thomas (1635-1688)

preview | full record

Date: 1686

"My Guts are grumbling a kind of Tune, Like the Base Pipes of an Organ: I am starv'd into a Substance so thin, that my Body is transparent; you may see my heart, and the appurtenances, hang up here in its mortal Closet, as easily as a Candle in a Lanthorn."

— D'Urfey, Thomas (1653?-1723)

preview | full record

Date: 1686

"I am starv'd into a Substance so thin, that my Body is transparent; you may see my heart, and the appurtenances, hang up here in its mortal Closet, as easily as a Candle in a Lanthorn."

— D'Urfey, Thomas (1653?-1723)

preview | full record

Date: 1686

"In the Recesses of a private Breast, / I thought to entertain your charming Guest, / And never to have boasted of my Feast."

— Flatman, Thomas (1635-1688)

preview | full record

Date: 1686, 1712

"But while confin'd to this dark Cell I lie, / My captive Soul can't reach its native Sky"

— Arwaker, Edmund (c.1655-1730)

preview | full record

The Mind is a Metaphor is authored by Brad Pasanek, Assistant Professor of English, University of Virginia.