Date: 1727

"Adieu fond Hopes, fantastick Cares, / Ye killing Joys, ye pleasing Pains, / My Soul for better Guests prepares, / Reason restor'd, and Virtue reigns."

— Somervile, William (1675-1742)

Date: 1727, 1739

"The Friend of Life! Death unrelenting bears / An iron Heart, and laughs at human Cares."

— Broome, William (1689-1745); Hesiod

Date: w. 1718, 1727

"Methinks as thrown upon some Fairy Land, / Amaz'd we know not how, nor where we stand; / While tripping Phantoms to the Sight advance, / And gay Ideas lead the mazy Dance."

— Pitt, Christopher (1699-1748)

Date: 1727

"Some, with a dry and barren Brain, / Poor Rogues! like costive Lap-Dogs strain; / While others with a Flux of Wit, / The Reader and their Friends besh**t."

— Somervile, William (1675-1742)

Date: 1727

"Inhaling spirit; from the unfetter'd mind, / By thee sublimed, down to the daily race, / The mixing myriads of thy setting beam."

— Thomson, James (1700-1748)

Date: 1727

"To me be Nature's volume broad display'd; / And to peruse its all instructing page, / Or, haply catching inspiration thence, / Some easy passage, raptured, to translate, / My sole delight; as through the falling glooms / Pensive I stray, or with the rising dawn / On Fancy's eagle-wing excursive ...

— Thomson, James (1700-1748)

Date: 1727

"Emblem instructive of the virtuous man, / Who keeps his temper'd mind serene and pure, / And every passion aptly harmonized, / Amid a jarring world with vice inflamed."

— Thomson, James (1700-1748)

Date: 1727

"Deep-roused, I feel / A sacred terror, a severe delight, / Creep through my mortal frame; and thus, me-thinks, / A voice than human more, the abstracted ear / Of fancy strikes."

— Thomson, James (1700-1748)

Date: 1727

"Once some of us, like thee, through stormy life, / Toil'd, tempest-beaten, ere we could attain / This holy calm, this harmony of mind, / Where purity and peace immingle charms."

— Thomson, James (1700-1748)

Date: 1727

"The sad Idea of his murder'd Mate, / Struck from his Side by savage Fowler's Guile, / Across his Fancy comes; and then resounds / A louder Song of Sorrow through the Grove."

— Thomson, James (1700-1748)