Date: 1822

"Thrice has a gloomy vision hunted me / As thus from sleep into the troubled day; / It shakes me as the tempest shakes the sea, / Leaving no figure upon memory's glass"

— Shelley, Percy Bysshe (1792-1822)

Date: 1825

The "ethereal mind" may be clouded

— Barbauld, Anna Letitia [née Aikin] (1743-1825)

Date: 1825

"Thus, when the fervid Passions cool, / And Judgement, late, begins to rule; / When Reason mounts her throne serene, / And social Friendship gilds the scene; / When man, of ripened powers possest, / Broods o'er the treasures of his breast; / Exults, in conscious worth elate, / Lord of himself--al...

— Barbauld, Anna Letitia [née Aikin] (1743-1825)

Date: 1826

A woman's "reason [may be] ship-wrecked upon her passion, and the hulk of her understanding lies thumping against the rock of her fury"

— King, Thomas (1730-1805)

Date: March, 1826

"And both these effects are of equal use to human life; for the mind of man is like the sea, which is neither agreeable to the beholder nor the voyager, in a calm or in a storm, but is so to both when a little agitated by gentle gales; and so the mind, when moved by soft and easy passions or affe...

— Lamb, Charles (1775-1834)

Date: 1831

"There are conceptions of the mind, that come forth like the coruscations of lightning."

— Godwin, William (1756-1836)

Date: 1837

"Make Thou my spirit pure and clear / As are the frosty skies, / Or this first snowdrop of the year / That in my bosom lies."

— Tennyson, Alfred, first Baron Tennyson (1809–1892)

Date: 1838

"Charm'd by her voice, th' harmonious sounds invade / His clouded mind, and for a time persuade:"

— Crabbe, George (1754-1832)

Date: w. 1821, 1840

"Man is an instrument over which a series of external and internal impressions are driven, like the alternations of an ever-changing wind over an Aeolian lyre, which move it by their motion to ever-changing melody."

— Shelley, Percy Bysshe (1792-1822)

Date: w. 1821, 1840

"It is as it were the interpretation of a diviner nature through our own; but its footsteps are like those of a wind over the sea, which the coming calm erases, and whose traces remain only as on the wrinkled sand which paves it."

— Shelley, Percy Bysshe (1792-1822)