Date: 1718

"For from most Bodies, Dick, You know,/ Some little Bits ask Leave to flow; / And, as thro' these Canals They roll, / Bring up a Sample of the Whole. / Like Footmen running before Coaches, / To tell the Inn, what Lord approaches."

— Prior, Matthew (1664-1721)

Date: 1725-6

"Thus anchor'd safe on reason's peaceful coast, / Tempests of wrath his soul no longer tost; / Restless his body rolls, to rage resign'd: / As one who long with pale-ey'd famine pin'd, / The sav'ry cates on glowing embers cast / Incessant turns, impatient for repast"

— Pope, Alexander (1688-1744), Broome, W. and Fenton, E.

Date: 1725

A poet shouldn't unfurl his sails in a gale of ungovernable rage

— Pitt, Christopher (1699-1748)

Date: 1729

"Like a frail bark thy weaken'd mind is tost, / Unsteer'd, unbalanc'd, till its wealth is lost."

— Savage, Richard (1697/8-1743)

Date: 1730

"Tho' his capacious Head, the sacred Ark! / Where a whole World of Science does imbark, / Has steer'd and labour'd all it can, / As Reason fill'd the Sail, / Yet what does all this fruitless search avail?"

— Woodward, George (b. 1708?)

Date: 1730

"Fancy, fair Mistress of the Poet's Mind, / For ever changing, yet, for ever kind; / Soft, o'er his Dreams, her formful Radiance shed, / And his rapt Soul thro' Heaven's thin Purlieus led; / Seated beside the Star-invading Dame, / Whose Steeds, Wind-footed, paw'd the lambent Flame, / High, as a W...

— Hill, Aaron (1685-1750)

Date: 1730

"Down from her Chariot light-wing'd Fancy flew, / And o'er him, loose, her Starry Mantle threw."

— Hill, Aaron (1685-1750)

Date: 1732

"Malice, and Lust, voracious Birds of Prey, / That out-soar Reason, and our Wishes sway; / Desires' wild Seas, on which the wise are tost, / By Pilot Indolence, are safely crost."

— Mitchell, Joseph (c. 1684-1738)

Date: 1739

"Grace we implore; when Billows roll, / Grace is the Anchor of the Soul."

— Wesley, John and Charles

Date: 1742

"I wake, emerging from a sea of dreams / Tumultuous; where my wreck'd desponding thought, / From wave to wave of fancied misery, / At random drove, her helm of reason lost."

— Young, Edward (bap. 1683, d. 1765)