text,updated_at,metaphor,created_at,context,theme,reviewed_on,dictionary,comments,provenance,id,work_id
"When welcome slumber sets my spirit free,
Forth to fictitious happiness it flies,
And where Elysian bowers of bliss arise,
I seem, my Emmeline--to meet with thee!
Ah! Fancy then, dissolving human ties,
Gives me the wishes of my soul to see;
Tears of fond pity fill thy soften'd eyes:
In heavenly harmony--our hearts agree.
Alas! these joys are mine in dreams alone,
When cruel Reason abdicates her throne!
Her harsh return condemns me to complain
Thro' life unpitied, unrelieved, unknown.
And as the dear delusions leave my brain,
She bids the truth recur--with aggravated pain.
",2013-06-13 15:39:07 UTC,"""Alas! these joys are mine in dreams alone, / When cruel Reason abdicates her throne!""",2004-07-09 00:00:00 UTC,"","",2011-10-06,Throne,•This is one of the few poems in which the metaphor of Reason's abdication is positive. ,Reading,14959,5597
"Perish th' illiberal thought which would debase
The native genius of the sable race!
Perish the proud philosophy, which sought
To rob them of the powers of equal thought!
Does then th' immortal principle within
Change with the casual colour of the skin?
Does matter govern spirit? or is mind
Degraded by the form to which 'tis joined?
No: they have heads to think, and hearts to feel
And souls to act with firm, thought unerring zeal;
For they have keen affections, kind desires,
Love strong as death, and active patriot fires;
All the rude energy, the fervid flame,
Of high-souled passions, and ingenuous shame:
Strong but luxuriant virtues boldly shoot
From the wild vigour of a savage root.
Nor weak their sense of honour's proud control,
For pride is virtue in a pagan soul;
A sense of worth, a conscience of desert,
A high, unbroken haughtiness of heart:
That self-same stuff which erst proud empires swayed,
Of which the conquerors of the world were made.
Capricious fate of man! that very pride
In Afric scourg'd, in Rome was deify'd.
(ll. 59-82, p. 103 in Wood, pp. 330-1 in Lonsdale)
",2012-08-14 13:23:26 UTC,"""Does matter govern spirit? or is mind / Degraded by the form to which 'tis joined?""",2003-07-28 00:00:00 UTC,"",Materialism,2012-08-14,"","•Excerpted in Lonsdale
•""Sable"" minds: watch More's racialism construct them. I should look at the complete poem for richer metaphors.[Done so: 8/2012]
Reviewed 2009-06-09",First encountered reading in Lonsdale,15155,5681
"SIR JOHN.
And can you persist after this, my Lord?--don't --for my sake don't.--
LORD
A passion like mine, makes the heart rebellious--it will love on--it will hope, in spite of the rules cold reason dictates.
SIR JOHN
I know my uncle is impatient for my return, and therefore I cannot remain any longer here--but I am sorry to leave you--very sorry to leave you in this situation, indeed, my Lord--Now promise to get the better of your passion--it will make me much happier if you will.
LORD
I can promise nothing--why don't you go to your uncle?
SIR JOHN
I am going--I must go, or he'll never pardon it.
(II.i)",2013-03-23 20:52:39 UTC,"""A passion like mine, makes the heart rebellious--it will love on--it will hope, in spite of the rules cold reason dictates""",2004-06-22 00:00:00 UTC,"Act II, Scene i","",,"","","Searching ""rule"" and ""reason"" in HDIS (Drama)",15238,5710
"On Eloquence, prevailing art!
Whose force can chain the list'ning heart;
The throb of Sympathy inspire,
And kindle every great desire;
With magic energy controul
And reign the sov'reign of the soul!
That dreams while all its passions swell,
It shares the power it feels so well;
As visual objects seem possest
Of those clear hues by light imprest;
Oh, skill'd in every grace to charm,
To soften, to appal, to warm;
Fill with thy noblest rage the breast,
Bid on those lips thy spirit rest,
That shall, in BRITAIN's Senate, trace
The wrongs of AFRIC's Captive Race!--
But Fancy o'er the tale of woe
In vain one heighten'd tint would throw;
For ah, the Truth, is all we guess
Of anguish in its last excess:
Fancy may dress in deeper shade
The storm that hangs along the glade,
Spreads o'er the ruffled stream its wing,
And chills awhile the flowers of Spring:
But, where the wintry tempests sweep
In madness, o'er the darken'd deep;
Where the wild surge, the raging wave,
Point to the hopeless wretch a grave;
And Death surrounds the threat'ning shore--
Can Fancy add one horror more?
(pp. 21-3, ll. 321-350)",2011-09-02 19:29:43 UTC,"""On Eloquence, prevailing art! / Whose force can chain the list'ning heart; / The throb of Sympathy inspire, / And kindle every great desire; / With magic energy controul / And reign the sov'reign of the soul!""",2011-09-02 19:29:43 UTC,"","",,"","",Reading,19131,7080
"Sonnet XLVII.
To Fancy
Thee Queen of Shadows!--shall I still invoke,
Still love the scenes thy sportive pencil drew,
When on mine eyes the early radiance broke
Which shew'd the beauteous, rather than the true!
Alas! long since, those glowing tints are dead,
And now 'tis thine in darkest hues to dress
The spot where pale Experience hangs her head
O'er the sad grave of murder'd Happiness!
Thro' thy false medium then, no longer view'd,
May fancied pain and fancied pleasure fly,
And I, as from me all thy dreams depart,
Be to my wayward destiny subdu'd;
Nor seek perfection with a poet's eye,
Nor suffer anguish with a poet's heart!",2013-06-13 15:46:46 UTC,"""Thee Queen of Shadows! [Fancy]--shall I still invoke, / Still love the scenes thy sportive pencil drew, / When on mine eyes the early radiance broke / Which shew'd the beauteous, rather than the true!""",2011-10-06 21:56:00 UTC,"","",,"","",Reading,19258,7108
"These propensities gave the colour to her mind, before the passions began to exercise their tyrannic sway, and particularly pointed out those which the soil would have a tendency to nurse.
(IV, p. 27)",2013-03-23 19:32:03 UTC,"""These propensities gave the colour to her mind, before the passions began to exercise their tyrannic sway, and particularly pointed out those which the soil would have a tendency to nurse.""",2013-03-23 19:32:03 UTC,Chapter IV,"",,"","",Searching in HDIS,20037,7365
"He had been the slave of beauty, the captive of sense; love he ne'er had felt; the mind never rivetted the chain, nor had the purity of it made the body appear lovely in his eyes. He was humane, despised meanness; but was vain of his abilities, and by no means a useful member of society. He talked often of the beauty of virtue; but not having any solid foundation to build the practice on, he was only a shining, or rather a sparkling character: and though his fortune enabled him to hunt down pleasure, he was discontented.
(pp. 149-150)",2013-03-23 20:34:51 UTC,"""He had been the slave of beauty, the captive of sense; love he ne'er had felt; the mind never rivetted the chain, nor had the purity of it made the body appear lovely in his eyes.""",2013-03-23 20:34:51 UTC,Chapter XXIV,"",,Fetters,"",Searching in HDIS,20061,7365
"Where her ruling passions, (the love of admiration and excessive vanity) did not interfere, she was sometimes generous and sometimes friendly. But her ideas of her own perfections, both of person and mind, far exceeding the truth, she had often the mortification to find that others by no means thought of them as she did; and then her good humour was far from invincible.
(I, p. 183)",2013-06-14 04:04:49 UTC,"""Where her ruling passions, (the love of admiration and excessive vanity) did not interfere, she was sometimes generous and sometimes friendly.""",2013-06-14 04:04:49 UTC,"",Ruling Passion,,"","",Searching in C-H Lion,20641,7439
"Emmeline was unable to reply; and Miss Galton finding no gratification to her curiosity, which, mingled with envious malignity, had long been her ruling passion, was obliged to quit the unhappy Emmeline; which was indeed the only favour she could do her.
(I, p. 272)",2013-06-14 04:10:20 UTC,"""Emmeline was unable to reply; and Miss Galton finding no gratification to her curiosity, which, mingled with envious malignity, had long been her ruling passion, was obliged to quit the unhappy Emmeline; which was indeed the only favour she could do her.""",2013-06-14 04:10:20 UTC,"",Ruling Passion,,"","",Searching in C-H Lion,20647,7439
"""Pardon me!--forgive me, Emmeline! I am not master of myself when I think of losing you! But you, who feel not any portion of the flame that devours me, can cooly argue, while my heart is torn in pieces; and deign not even to make any allowance for the unguarded sallies of unconquerable passion!--the phrenzy of almost hopeless love! Sometimes, when I think your coldness arises from determined and insurmountable indifference--perhaps from dislike--despair and fury possess me. Would you but say that you will live only for me--would you only promise that no future Rochely, none of the people you have seen or may see, shall influence you to forget me--I should, I think, be easier!""
(II, p. 133)",2013-06-14 04:16:22 UTC,"""But you, who feel not any portion of the flame that devours me, can cooly argue, while my heart is torn in pieces; and deign not even to make any allowance for the unguarded sallies of unconquerable passion!""",2013-06-14 04:16:22 UTC,"","",,Empire,"",Searching in C-H Lion,20652,7439