Date: 1744, 1772, 1795
"Thou, smiling queen of every tuneful breast, / Indulgent Fancy from the fruitful banks / Of Avon, whence thy rosy fingers cull / Fresh flowers and dews to sprinkle on the turf / Where Shakespeare lies, be present."
preview | full record— Akenside, Mark (1720-1771)
Date: 1744, 1772, 1795
"Defil'd to such a depth of sordid shame / The native honours of the human soul, / Nor so effac'd the image of its sire."
preview | full record— Akenside, Mark (1720-1771)
Date: 1744, 1772, 1795
"Thus he learns / Their birth and fortunes; how allied they haunt / The avenues of sense; what laws direct / Their union; and what various discords rise, / Or fix'd or casual: which when his clear thought / Retains and when his faithful words express, / That living image of the external scene, / ...
preview | full record— Akenside, Mark (1720-1771)
Date: 1745
"Then tell me, is your soul intire? / Does wisdom calmly hold her throne? / Then can you question each desire, / Bid this remain, and that begone?"
preview | full record— Akenside, Mark (1720-1771)
Date: 1745
"Too much my heart of Beauty's power hath known, / Too long to Love hath reason left her throne; / Too long my genius mourn'd his myrtle chain, / And three rich years of youth consum'd in vain."
preview | full record— Akenside, Mark (1720-1771)
Date: 1753
"He combats Passion, rooted in the Soul, / Whose Powers at once delight ye and controul; / Whose Magic Bondage each lost Slave enjoys, / Nor wishes Freedom, tho' the Spell destroys."
preview | full record— Moore, Edward (1712-1757)
Date: 1753
"Ye Slaves of Passion, and ye Dupes of Chance, / Wake all your Pow'rs from this destructive Trance!"
preview | full record— Moore, Edward (1712-1757)
Date: 1753
"Cards were at first for Benefits design'd, / Sent to amuse, and not enslave the Mind."
preview | full record— Moore, Edward (1712-1757)
Date: 1772
"With that strong master of our frame, / The inexorable judge within / What can be done?"
preview | full record— Akenside, Mark (1720-1771)
Date: 1773
"O Wisdom! if thy soft controul / Can soothe the sickness of the soul, / Can bid the warring passions cease, / And breathe the calm of tender peace;-- / Wisdom! I bless thy gentle sway, / And ever, ever will obey."
preview | full record— Barbauld, Anna Letitia [née Aikin] (1743-1825)