Date: 1786

"'Tis thy pure spirit warms my Anna's mind. / Beams thro' the pensive softness of her form, / And holds its altar--on her spotless heart!"

— Smith, Charlotte (1749-1806)

Date: 1787

"But let me give his m*****y a hint, / Fresh from my brain's prolific mint."

— Wolcot, John, pseud. Peter Pindar, (1738-1819)

Date: 1788

"I would not hear / Aught else disturb the silent reign of death, / Save the dull ticking of a lazy clock. / That calls me home, and leads the pious soul / Through mazes of reflection, till she feels / For whom and why she lives"

— Hurdis, James (1763-1801)

Date: 1788

"My heart throbs high, as if 'twould burst its cell."

— Williams, John [pseud. Anthony Pasquin] (1754-1818)

Date: 1789

"While in Fancy's ear / As in the evening wind thy murmurs swell, / The Enthusiast of the Lyre, who wander'd here, / Seems yet to strike his visionary shell, / Of power to call forth Pity's tenderest tear / Or wake wild frenzy--from her hideous cell!"

— Smith, Charlotte (1749-1806)

Date: 1790, 1794, 1795, 1818, 1827

"If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would appear to man as it is: infinite."

— Blake, William (1757-1827)

Date: 1791, 1806

"When from the festive bow'r / The frenzied Homicide retreats, / And, in his bosom's cell, / Essays each rising throb to quell;"

— Robinson [Née Darby], Mary [Perdita] (1758-1800)

Date: 1791, 1806

"Yet in my bosom's ruby cell / The philosophic lore shall live!"

— Robinson [Née Darby], Mary [Perdita] (1758-1800)

Date: 1792

"Nay, from the palaces the Virtues fly, / While boldly entering from their beastly stye, / The vulgar passions rush to pig with kings!

— Wolcot, John, pseud. Peter Pindar, (1738-1819)

Date: 1792

"Lulled in the countless chambers of the brain, / Our thoughts are linked by many a hidden chain."

— Rogers, Samuel (1763-1855)