Date: 1765

"Thro' rooted vice my spirits fail, / Which o'er my heart an empire wins, / O let thy mercy countervail / To cover all our sins."

— Smart, Christopher (1722-1771)

Date: 1766, 1806

"From hands unscepter'd take the scornful blow? / Uproot the thoughts of glory as they grow?"

— Jerningham, Edward (1727-1812)

Date: 1766

"Gen'rous bosoms, more than gems of gold, / Rich funds of morals, knowledge, sense, unfold; / Transmitting each, to each, the rising store, / For wisdom's plants, while cropping, flourish more, A magic circle! whose enchanted round, / Admits no fiend to tread the hallow'd ground."

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

Date: 1766

"In judgment's sunshine fancy's flow'rets bloom, / And innocence exalts their fresh perfume: / No weeds of envy choke the fertile soil"

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

Date: 1767

"A heart of oak, and breast of brass / Were his, who first presum'd on seas to pass, / And ever ventur'd to engage, / In a slight skiff, with ocean's desperate rage."

— Smart, Christopher (1722-1771); Horace (65 B.C. -8 B.C.)

Date: 1767, 1784

"But plant some gentler passion in its room, / Some virtuous instinct suited to your make, / As glory is to ours, alike required / A ransom for the vulgar's vassal state, / Then wou'dst thou soon the strong contention own, / And justify my conduct."

— Jago, Richard (1715-1781)

Date: 1771, 1776

"Adieu, ye lays, that fancy's flowers adorn, / The soft amusement of the vacant mind!"

— Beattie, James (1735-1803)

Date: 1771

"Roused from the sleep of death, a countless crowd / ("Whose hearts like trees before the wind are bow'd ... ) / Press to the hallow'd courts, with eager strife, / Catch the convincing word, and hear for life"

— Wesley, John and Charles

Date: 1773, 1810

"Hail, mild Philosophy! the province thine, / To chase the spectres of the dark Divine! / Not to fix errour, but with reason's art, / To root the stiff old-woman from the heart."

— Stockdale, Percival (1736-1811)

Date: 1773, 1894-1895

"For what the Bark is to the growing Tree, / To human Mind, that, Patience seems to be; / They hold the Principles of Growth together, / And blunt the Force of Accident, and Weather."

— Byrom, John (1692-1763)