Date: 1715-1720

"It seem'd not enough to have taken in the whole Circle of Arts, and the whole Compass of Nature; all the inward Passions and Affections of Mankind to supply this Characters, and all the outward Forms and Images of Things for his Descriptions; but wanting yet an ampler Sphere to expatiate in, he ...

— Pope, Alexander (1688-1744)

Date: 1715-1720

"'Tis however remarkable that his Fancy, which is every where vigorous, is not discover'd immediately at the beginning of his Poem in its fullest Splendor: It grows in the Progress both upon himself and others, and becomes on Fire like a Chariot-Wheel, by its own Rapidity."

— Pope, Alexander (1688-1744)

Date: 1715-1720

"And yet no dire Presage so wounds my Mind, / My Mother's Death, the Ruin of my Kind, / Not Priam 's hoary Hairs defil'd with Gore, / Not all my Brothers gasping on the Shore; / As thine, Andromache!"

— Pope, Alexander (1688-1744)

Date: 1717

"But Man would yet look wondrous wise. / And equal Chains of Thought devise."

— Fenton, Elijah (1683-1730)

Date: 1719

"He forms our generals for the field, / With all their dreadful skill; / Gives them his awful sword to wield, / And makes their hearts of steel."

— Watts, Isaac (1674-1748)

Date: 1719

"My soul is like a wilderness, / Where beasts of midnight howl; / There the sad raven finds her place, / And there the screaming owl."

— Watts, Isaac (1674-1748)

Date: 1719

"Hard was his Heart, inclos'd in Folds of Brass, / Who in a feeble Bark first boldly try'd / The Watry Path and Region of the Seas, /And adverse Winds and swelling Waves defy'd"

— Oldisworth, William (1680-1734)

Date: 1721

"My Heart do's like soft Wax relent, / And midst my Bowels flow"

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1721

"Bless God, who did not give our Soul / To their sharp Teeth a Prey."

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)

Date: 1721

"Our Soul, as from a broken Snare / A Bird escapes, is fled."

— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)