Date: 1735

"As if thy thrifty Soul foreknew, / Like a wise Envoy, Heav'n's Intent / Soon to recall whom it had sent, / And all its Task resolv'd at once to do."

— Hughes, John (1678?-1720)

Date: 1739

"Fly from my soul all images of sense"

— Rowe [née Singer], Elizabeth (1674-1737)

Date: 1739

"My great Redeemer's name--transporting name! / 'Tis graven on my heart, 'tis deep imprest, / Immortal is the stamp; nor life, nor death, / Nor hell, with all its pow'rs, shall blot it thence."

— Rowe [née Singer], Elizabeth (1674-1737)

Date: 1739

"Thy hand can trace the characters divine, / And stamp celestial beauty on my soul"

— Rowe [née Singer], Elizabeth (1674-1737)

Date: 1739

"And may the soft impression ne'er be lost! / O set me as a signet on thy heart!"

— Rowe [née Singer], Elizabeth (1674-1737)

Date: October, 1739

"Teach me to cool my passion's fires, / Make me the judge of my desires / The master of my heart."

— Akenside, Mark (1720-1771)

Date: 1744, 1772, 1795

"These flattering scenes / To this neglected labour court my song; / Yet not unconscious what a doubtful task / To paint the finest features of the mind, / And to most subtile and mysterious things / Give colour, strength, and motion."

— Akenside, Mark (1720-1771)

Date: 1744, 1772, 1795

"Not so the moral species, nor the powers / Of genius and design; the ambitious mind / There sees herself: by these congenial forms / Touch'd and awaken'd, with intenser act / She bends each nerve, and meditates well-pleas'd / Her features in the mirror."

— Akenside, Mark (1720-1771)

Date: 1744, 1772, 1795

"By these mysterious ties the busy power / Of memory her ideal train preserves / Intire; or when they would elude her watch, / Reclaims their fleeting footsteps from the waste / Of dark oblivion."

— Akenside, Mark (1720-1771)

Date: 1744, 1772, 1795

"Sure the rising sun / O'er the cærulean convex of the sea, / With equal brightness and with equal warmth / Might rowl his fiery orb; nor yet the soul / Thus feel her frame expanded, and her powers / Exulting in the splendor she beholds; / Like a young conqueror moving through the pomp / Of...

— Akenside, Mark (1720-1771)