Date: 1724

"Tho' the soft dove brood, gall-less, o'er your breast, / Yet let the wary serpent arm your mind."

— Savage, Richard (1697/8-1743)

Date: 1727

"Some, with a dry and barren Brain, / Poor Rogues! like costive Lap-Dogs strain; / While others with a Flux of Wit, / The Reader and their Friends besh**t."

— Somervile, William (1675-1742)

Date: 1727

"Thus when the villain crams his chest, / Gold is the canker of the breast"

— Gay, John (1685-1732)

Date: 1728

"Gold is the Load-stone of the Great, / And vulgar Souls must catch the glitt'ring Bait."

— Pattison, William (1706-1727)

Date: 1728, 1729, 1736

"She form'd this image of well-bodied air, / With pert flat eyes she window'd well its head, / A brain of feathers, and a heart of lead, / And empty words she gave, and sounding strain, / But senseless, lifeless! idol void and vain!"

— Pope, Alexander (1688-1744)

Date: 1733

"I see the Soul in pensive fit, / And mopeing like sick Linnet sit, / With dewy eye and moulting wing, / Unperch'd, averse to fly or sing."

— Green, Matthew (1696-1737) [pseud. Peter Drake, a Fisherman of Brentford]

Date: 1733-4

"And hence one Master Passion in the breast, / Like Aaron's serpent, swallows up the rest."

— Pope, Alexander (1688-1744)

Date: 1734

"Hail, holy souls, no more confin'd / To limbs and bones that clog the mind; / Ye have escap'd the snares, and left the chains behind."

— Watts, Isaac (1674-1748)

Date: 1735

"But if my Soul, / To this gross Clay confin'd, flutters on Earth / With less ambitious Wing; unskill'd to range / From Orb to Orb, where Newton leads the Way; / And view with piercing Eye the grand Machine, / Worlds above Worlds; subservient to his Voice, / Who, veil'd in clouded Majesty, alone ...

— Somervile, William (1675-1742)

Date: 1735

"No more the tender seeds unquicken'd lie, / But stretch their form and wait for wings to fly."

— Harte, Walter (1708/9-1774)