Date: 1765, 1770

"On Life's rough sea by stormy passions tost, / Freedom and Virtue were together lost."

— Wodhull, Michael (1740-1816)

Date: 1766

"Should you but discompose the tide, / On which Ideas wont to ride, / Ferment it with a yeasty Storm, / Or with high Floods of Wine deform."

— Lloyd, Evan (1734-1776)

Date: 1766

Melancholy may "cloud the sunshine of my chearful breast"

— Woodhouse, James (bap. 1735, d. 1820)

Date: 1766

"Her tuneful tongue with eloquence and ease, / The golden merchandize of thought conveys; / Brisk fancy wafts it with her sprightly gales, / While judgment ballasts all the swelling sails."

— Woodhouse, James (bap. 1735, d. 1820)

Date: 1767

"Instant my Sense return'd, restor'd and whole, / To re-possess its empire of the soul. / So, when o'er Phoebus low-hung clouds prevail, / Sleep on each hill, and sadden ev'ry dale; / Sudden, up-springing from the north, invades / A purging wind, which first disturbs the shades; / Thins the black...

— Harte, Walter (1708/9-1774)

Date: 1767, 1784

"But if foul Passion, or distemper'd Pride, / Impede its search, or Phrenzy seize the brain, / Then Ignorance a gloomy darkness spreads, / Or Superstition, with mishapen forms, / Erects its savage empire in the mind."

— Jago, Richard (1715-1781)

Date: 1770

"But all his serious thoughts had rest in Heaven. / As some tall cliff, that lifts its awful form, / Swells from the vale and midway leaves the storm, / Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, / Eternal sunshine settles on its head."

— Goldsmith, Oliver (1728?-1774)

Date: 1771, 1776

"'The gusts of appetite, the clouds of care, / 'And storms of disappointment, all o'erpast, / 'Henceforth no earthly hope with heaven shall share / 'This heart, where peace serenely shines at last."

— Beattie, James (1735-1803)

Date: 1771, 1776

"The mind untaught / 'Is a dark waste, where fiends and tempests howl; / 'As Phebus to the world, is Science to the soul."

— Beattie, James (1735-1803)

Date: 1755, 1771

"And yet, let but a zephyr's breath begin/ To stir the latent excellence within-- / Waked in that moment's elemental strife, / Impassion'd genius feels the breath of life; / The' expanding heart delights to leap and glow, / The pulse to kindle, and the tear to flow."

— Cawthorn, James (1719-1761)