updated_at,id,text,theme,metaphor,work_id,reviewed_on,provenance,created_at,comments,context,dictionary
2009-09-14 19:44:58 UTC,15876,"The great Mr. Locke, and several other ingenious philosophers, have represented the human intellect, antecedent to its intercourse with external objects, as a tabula rasa, or a substance capable of receiving any impressions, but upon which no original impressions of any kind are stamped. Agreeable to this hypothesis, the soul, while destitute of that knowledge we acquire by experience and observation, is a mere passive being, having no natural principles of action, no power of chusing or refusing, but entirely subjected to receive the first impressions that are made upon it, without the capacity of discovering whether they are proper or improper, whether they tend to its preservation of destruction.
(p. 313)",Blank Slate,"""The great Mr. Locke, and several other ingenious philosophers, have represented the human intellect, antecedent to its intercourse with external objects, as a tabula rasa, or a substance capable of receiving any impressions, but upon which no original impressions of any kind are stamped.""",5968,,"Searching ""tabula rasa"" in ECCO",2006-10-15 00:00:00 UTC,"",Part I. Origin of Selfishness,Writing
2009-09-14 19:44:59 UTC,15885," DEAR madam, hear a suppliant's pray'r,
And on our bard your censure spare,
Whase bluntness slights ilk trivial care
Of mock decorum:
Since for a bard its unko rare
To look before him.
With joy to praise, with freedom blame,
To ca' folk by their Christian name,
To speak his mind, but fear or shame,
Was at his fashion:
But virtue his eternal flame,
His ruling passion.
This by-past time, as fame reports,
The author's Muse was out of sorts,
And in some freak, perhaps in dorts,
Or ablins spleen:
She paid her visists at the shorts,
An' lang between.
",Ruling Passion,"Virtue may be a man's ""eternal flame"" or ""ruling passion""",5975,,"Searching ""ruling passion"" in HDIS (Restoration and C18)",2004-05-18 00:00:00 UTC,•I've included twice: once in Government and once in Uncategorized
•Published in Elizabeth Scot's Alonzo and Cora (1801),I've included the entire poem,""
2009-09-14 19:45:25 UTC,16015,"A sudden stupor every sense pervades,
Upon her cheek the roseate tincture fades;
In dumb surprise her soul astonished swims;
The downy bed supports her falling limbs:
A sudden qualm of sorrow and surprise
Bound up the tongue, and blocked the gates of voice:
The wakening soul resumes the seat again,
She ceaseless rolls in agonizing pain;
Tossed round her limbs, and furious with despair,
She beat her breast, and tore her golden hair.
Surprise is o'er; the tears begin to flow;
And words expressive of the mighty woe:
Egidia lives! and what she prized is fled!
Come, death! and waft the hapless to the dead.
Come lop this virgin flower, my sable spouse,
And quench the flood-gates of these rushing woes.
Sooth, sooth, O gentle! all my troubled breast;
Within thy arms at last my soul shall rest!
Birth, grandeur, state, farewell, ye empty toys,
Ye curse of life, obstructions of my joys!
O should a shepherdess upon the plain
Bear me, a daughter, to some humble swain;
Not nursed to grandeur, unconfined to state,
The stately youth might love his rural mate!
Clasped in Love's arms, in some low hut reclined,
I'd pour upon his breast my love-sick mind;
With thee, my swain, would bear the wintry cold,
With thee would guard the cattle to the fold;
Through Poverty's cold stream-with thee would gain,
And lean-cheek'd Want might puff his blast in vain;
With thee, with thee would tempt the rugged heath;
With thee would live, with thee would sink in death.
O bear me, bear me, Fortune, to some grove,
Where your transfixer, harts! and mine may rove.
Touched with my care, my tyrant may prove kind,
Nor let that form conceal an iron mind.","","""Touched with my care, my tyrant may prove kind, / Nor let that form conceal an iron mind.""",6033,,"Searching ""mind"" and ""iron"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2005-06-07 00:00:00 UTC,"","",Metal
2009-09-14 19:45:25 UTC,16016,"Then towards the foe the youth indignant moved:
Fear trembles, en'mies praise, and envy loved.
He strides along the men-environed ground;
His rattling arms emit an iron sound:
The Saxon saw, advanced, nor looked behind,
Fate hurried on, and courage steel'd his mind.
Bright in effulgent arms the youths appeared;
Each o'er the plain a steely column reared:
They rush together; clashing arms afar
Reflect the horrours of the dismal war.
Awful the blades wave gleaming in the sky,
And from the crashing steel the sparkles fly.
They fight, and, wearied, cease, and fight again;
Their feet bake dust with blood upon the plain.
Death undetermined points to each his stings,
And conquest flutters round on dubious wings.
The hill-born youth reminds, with anxious care,
What vaunts the foul-mouth'd Saxon breath'd on air;
His country's love the youthful hero warms,
And vengeance strung his almost wearied arms.
Upraised aloft, the light reflexive blade
Sings through the air, and cleaves the Saxon's head.
The broken skull, and shivered helmet, strew'd
The sandy plain, that reeks with human blood.
He gasping falls, and shakes the thundering ground,
And, dying, toss'd his quivering limbs around.","","""The Saxon saw, advanced, nor looked behind, / Fate hurried on, and courage steel'd his mind.""",6033,,"Searching ""mind"" and ""iron"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2005-06-07 00:00:00 UTC,"","",Metal
2009-09-14 19:45:26 UTC,16018,"The youth arrived, when o'er the northern main
The lovely form of Liberty is seen.
A heavenly splendour, and unfading grace,
Flashed from her eyes, and wandered in her face;
Her lovely skin the varied beauty shews,
Of the white lilly, and the blushing rose.
Justice around her spreads her awful reign,
And Innocence, in white robes, neatly plain,
Smiles life away; when sweet Fidelity,
With sister Modesty, completes the joy.
There Science stands, in endless pleasure clad,
Eternal laurels flourish on her head.
Each Muse, a lovely choir! around her sings,
And gnawing Care thére drops the pointless stings.
Oppression, ghastly shade! her presence flies;
The trembling tyrant veils his coward eyes,
When clad in wrath, and law-maintaining arms,
The goddess shines in more than mortal charms.
Majestically slow descends the fair;
Her snow-white robe swims on the placid air,
And on the royal head conspicuous stood,
With courage keen, and dauntless fortitude.
She raised her voice; the rocks re-echo round;
The embattled English tremble at the sound.
Thrice call'd the power, and thrice the ocean rang,
And from the starting horse the riders hang:
When Courage, through the Scottish ranks confessed,
With his immortal steel incased each breast.
Each generous soul confess'd with ardent joy,
I'll save my country, or revenged die.
But more than all the youthful Hunter burns,
Joy swells his breast, and vengeance stings by turns.
Pain heaves his beating heart; his form, improved,
Towers o'er the field, and as a god he moved.
Terror, commixed with soul-attractive grace,
Flashed from each feature of his manly face.","","""When Courage, through the Scottish ranks confessed, / With his immortal steel incased each breast.""",6033,,"Searching ""breast"" and ""steel"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2005-06-12 00:00:00 UTC,"","",Metal
2009-09-14 19:45:35 UTC,16063," --Rapt in thought, that bids thee rise
In all thy forms before mine eyes,
I glow with joy to see thee come
In rosy health and youthful bloom:
And now, cold horror trembles o'er my soul,
When thou in blank uncertainty array'd,
With iron-hearted deaf control
Throw'st all around thy awful, dubious shade.","","""And now, cold horror trembles o'er my soul, / When thou in blank uncertainty array'd, / With iron-hearted deaf control / Throw'st all around thy awful, dubious shade""",6065,,"Searching ""heart"" and ""iron"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2005-06-07 00:00:00 UTC,"",Odes,Metal
2009-09-14 19:45:41 UTC,16091,"Doug.
No, no; fear, hatred, envy, all have steeled
The heart of England's Queen.","","""No, no; fear, hatred, envy, all have steeled / The heart of England's Queen.""",6080,,"Searching ""heart"" and ""steel"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2005-06-10 00:00:00 UTC,"","",Metal
2009-09-14 19:45:42 UTC,16092,"Mary.
Miscreant! thy words, far from appalling me
With the full marshalled horrors of this day,
They steel my heart; the dire reality
Daunteth not Douglas, and shall the description
Intimidate me into infamy?","","""Miscreant! thy words, far from appalling me / With the full marshalled horrors of this day, / They steel my heart""",6080,,"Searching ""heart"" and ""steel"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2005-06-10 00:00:00 UTC,"","",Metal
2013-06-04 17:05:05 UTC,16119,"Ruddy is now the dawning as in June,
And clear and blue the vault of noon-tide sky:
Nor is the slanting orb of day unfelt.
From sunward rocks, the icicle's faint drop,
By lonely river-side, is heard at times
To break the silence deep; for now the stream
Is mute, or faintly gurgles far below
Its frozen ceiling: silent stands the mill,
The wheel immoveable, and shod with ice.
The babbling rivulet, at each little slope,
Flows scantily beneath a lucid veil,
And seems a pearly current liquified;
While, at the shelvy side, in thousand shapes
Fantastical, the frostwork domes uprear
Their tiny fabrics, gorgeously superb
With ornaments beyond the reach of art:
Here vestibules of state, and colonnades;
There Gothic castles, grottos, heathen fanes,
Rise in review, and quickly disappear;
Or through some fairy palace fancy roves,
And studs, with ruby lamps, the fretted roof;
Or paints with every colour of the bow
Spotless parterres, all freakt with snow-white flowers,
Flowers that no archetype in nature own;
Or spreads the spiky crystals into fields
Of bearded grain, rustling in autumn breeze.","","""Or through some fairy palace fancy roves, / And studs, with ruby lamps, the fretted roof / Or paints with every colour of the bow / Spotless parterres, all freakt with snow-white flowers, /
Flowers that no archetype in nature own.""",6093,,Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2006-01-20 00:00:00 UTC,•Another of these difficult wandering metaphors. Fancy personified.,"",""
2012-04-27 18:56:47 UTC,19729,"Or turn thee to that house, with studded doors,
And iron-visor'd windows;--even there
The Sabbath sheds a beam of bliss, tho' faint;
The debtor's friends (for still he has some friends)
Have time to visit him; the blossoming pea,
That climbs the rust-worn bars, seems fresher tinged;
And on the little turf, this day renewed,
The lark, his prison mate, quivers the wing
With more than wonted joy. See, through the bars,
That pallid face retreating from the view,
That glittering eye following, with hopeless look,
The friends of former years, now passing by
In peaceful fellowship to worship God:
With them, in days of youthful years, he roamed
O'er hill and dale, o'er broomy knowe; and wist
As little as the blythest of the band
Of this his lot; condemned, condemned unheard,
The party for his judge:--among the throng,
The Pharisaical hard-hearted man
He sees pass on, to join the heaven-taught prayer,
Forgive our debts, as we forgive our debtors:
From unforgiving lips most impious prayer!
O happier far the victim, than the hand
That deals the legal stab! The injured man
Enjoys internal, settled calm; to him
The Sabbath bell sounds peace; he loves to meet
His fellow-sufferers, to pray and praise:
And many a prayer, as pure as e'er was breathed
In holy fanes, is sighed in prison halls.
Ah me! that clank of chains, as kneel and rise
The death-doomed row. But see, a smile illumes
The face of some; perhaps they're guiltless: Oh!
And must high-minded honesty endure
The ignominy of a felon's fate!
No, 'tis not ignominious to be wronged;
No;--conscious exultation swells their hearts,
To think the day draws nigh, when in the view
Of angels, and of just men perfect made,
The mark which rashness branded on their names
Shall be effaced;--when, wafted on life's storm,
Their souls shall reach the Sabbath of the skies;--
As birds, from bleak Norwegia's wintry coast
Blown out to sea, strive to regain the shore,
But, vainly striving; yield them to the blast,--
Swept o'er the deep to Albion's genial isle,
Amazed they light amid the bloomy sprays
Of some green vale, there to enjoy new loves,
And join in harmony unheard before.","","""Their souls shall reach the Sabbath of the skies;-- / As birds, from bleak Norwegia's wintry coast / Blown out to sea, strive to regain the shore, / But, vainly striving; yield them to the blast,-- / Swept o'er the deep to Albion's genial isle, / Amazed they light amid the bloomy sprays / Of some green vale, there to enjoy new loves, / And join in harmony unheard before.""",7234,,"Searching ""soul"" and ""birds"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2012-04-27 18:56:07 UTC,Note: In 1806 Graham published Birds of Scotland ... The simile here is rather ornithological. USE IN ENTRY?,"",Animals