Samuel Johnson critique metaphysical writers of the 17th century because he, like others, feared social change--political, economic, et cetera.
"wit [. . .] may be [. . .] philosophically considered a kind of discordia concors: a combination of dissimilar images or a discovery of occult resemblances in things apparently unlike. Of wit, thus defined, [the metaphysical poets] have more than enough. The most heterogenous ideas are yoked by violence together; nature and art are ransacked for illustrations, comparisons, and allusions; their learning instructs, and their subtlety surprises; but the reader commonly thinks his improvement . . ."
"A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning"; Lyric
Dull sublunary loves' love (whose soul is sense) cannot admit Absence, because it doth remove Those things which elemented it. / But we, by a love so much refund That our selves know not what it is, inter-assured of the mind, Care less eyes, lips, and hands to miss / . . . Like gold to airy thinness beat / IF THEY BE TWO, THEY ARE TWO SO, AS STIFF TWIN COMPASSES ARE TWO: THEY SOUL, THE FIX'D FOOT, MAKES NO SHOW TO MOVE, BUT DOTH, IF THE OTHER DO"
Call us what you will, we are made by such love; Call her one, me another fly, We're tapers, too, and at our own cost die, And we in us find the eagle and the dove. The phoenix riddle hath more wit By us: we two being one, are it. . . . We'll build in sonnets pretty rooms: . . . And by these hymns, all shall approve Us canonized for love / Into the glasses of our eyes . . . Countries, towns, courts: Beg from above A pattern of your love!
"The Good Morrow" Lyric
My face in thine eye, thine in mine appears, And true plain hearts do in the faces rest; Where can we find two better hemispheres, Without sharp North, without declining West? Whatever dies, was not mix'd equally; If our two loves be one, or, thou and I Love just alike in all, none of these loves can die.
"The Sunne Rising"; Lyrice
Thy beams so reverend, and strong Why shouldst thou think ? I could eclipse and cloud them with a wink, But that I would not lose her sight so long. If her eyes have not blinded thine, Look, and to-morrow late tell me, Whether both th' Indias of spice and mine Be where thou left'st them, or lie here with me. Ask for those kings whom thou saw'st yesterday, And thou shalt hear, "All here in one bed lay."
Keats in a letter to Benjamin Bailey
"I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the Heart's affections and the truth of imagination--What the imagination seizes as Beauty must be truth . . . for I have the same idea of all our Passions as of Love they are all in their sublime, creative of essential Beauty . . . The imagination may be imagination may be compared to Adam's dream--he awoke and found it truth.