updated_at,id,text,theme,metaphor,work_id,reviewed_on,provenance,created_at,comments,context,dictionary
2011-09-15 20:47:58 UTC,16376,"I hear, old friends, I hear you: ""Make all sure:
""Let spies surround her, and let bolts secure.""
But who shall keep the keepers? Wives contemn
Our poor precautions, and begin with them.
Lust is the master passion; it inflames,
Alike, both high and low; alike, the dames,
Who, on tall Syrians' necks, their pomp display,
And those who pick, on foot, their miry way.
",Ruling Passion,"""Lust is the master passion.""",6195,,"Searching HDIS for ""master passion""",2004-06-01 00:00:00 UTC,"","",""
2011-09-15 20:52:54 UTC,16388," But he, the bard of every age and clime,
Of genius fruitful, ardent and sublime,
Who, from the glowing mint of fancy, pours
No spurious metal, fused from common ores,
But gold, to matchless purity refined,
And stamp'd with all the godhead in his mind;
He whom I feel, but want the power to paint,
Springs from a soul impatient of restraint,
And free from every care; a soul that loves
The Muse's haunts, clear founts, and shady groves.
Never, no never, did He wildly rave,
And shake his thyrsus in the Aonian cave,
Whom poverty kept sober, and the cries
Of a lean stomach, clamorous for supplies:
No; the wine circled briskly through the veins,
When Horace pour'd his dithyrambick strains!--
What room for fancy, say, unless the mind,
And all its thoughts, to poesy resign'd,
Be hurried with resistless force along,
By the two kindred Powers of Wine and Song!
O! 'tis the exclusive business of a breast
Impetuous, uncontroll'd,--not one distrest
With household cares, to view the bright abodes,
The steeds, the chariots, and the forms of gods:
And the fierce Fury, as her snakes she shook,
And wither'd the Rutulian with a look!
Those snakes, had Virgil no Mæcenas found,
Had dropt, in listless length, upon the ground;
And the still slumbering trump, groan'd with no mortal sound.",Ruling Passion,"""But he, the bard of every age and clime, / Of genius fruitful, ardent and sublime, / Who, from the glowing mint of fancy, pours / No spurious metal, fused from common ores, / But gold, to matchless purity refined, / And stamp'd with all the godhead in his mind.""",6198,2011-09-15,"Searching ""stamp"" and ""mind"" in HDIS (Poetry); Found again ""mint"" and ""fancy""",2005-04-07 00:00:00 UTC,"•INTEREST. Here as elsewhere the stamp is specifically a matter of minting. Must read Deidre Lynch's book.
•I've included twice: Stamping and Gold","","Coinage, Impression, and Metal"
2009-09-14 19:46:44 UTC,16395,"A Judge, if to the camp your plaints you bear,
Coarse shod, and coarser greaved, awaits you there:
By antique law proceeds the cassock'd sage,
And rules prescribed in old Camillus' age;
To wit, Let soldiers seek no foreign bench,
Nor plead to any charge, without the trench.
O nicely do Centurions sift the cause,
When buff-and-belt-men violate the laws!
And ample, if with reason we complain,
Is, doubtless, the redress our injuries gain!
Even so:--but the whole legion are our foes,
And, with determined aim, the award oppose.
""These snivelling rogues take special pleasure still,
""To make the punishment outweigh the ill.""
So runs the cry; and he must be possest,
Of more, Vagellius, than thy iron breast,
Who braves their anger, and with ten poor toes,
Defies such countless hosts of hobnail'd shoes.","","""[H]e must be possest, / Of more, Vagellius, than thy iron breast, / Who braves their anger, and with ten poor toes, / Defies such countless hosts of hobnail'd shoes.""",6199,,"Searching ""breast"" and ""iron"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2005-06-08 00:00:00 UTC,"","",Metal
2009-09-14 19:46:45 UTC,16397,"No; let me bring the Immortals, what the race
Of great Messala, now depraved and base,
On their huge charger, cannot;--bring a mind,
Where legal and where moral sense are join'd,
With the pure essence; holy thoughts, that dwell
In the soul's most retired, and sacred cell;
A bosom dyed in honour's noblest grain,
Deep-dyed:--with these, let me approach the fane,
And Heaven will hear the humble prayer I make,
Though all my offering be a barley cake.","","""[B]ring a mind, / Where legal and where moral sense are join'd, / With the pure essence; holy thoughts, that dwell / In the soul's most retired, and sacred cell""",6200,,"Searching ""soul"" and ""cell"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2005-08-17 00:00:00 UTC,•I've included twice: Cell and Dwelling,"The Satires of Aulus Persius Flaccus, Translated into English Verse",Rooms
2009-09-14 19:46:45 UTC,16398,"No; let me bring the Immortals, what the race
Of great Messala, now depraved and base,
On their huge charger, cannot;--bring a mind,
Where legal and where moral sense are join'd,
With the pure essence; holy thoughts, that dwell
In the soul's most retired, and sacred cell;
A bosom dyed in honour's noblest grain,
Deep-dyed:--with these, let me approach the fane,
And Heaven will hear the humble prayer I make,
Though all my offering be a barley cake.","","""bring a mind, / Where legal and where moral sense are join'd, / With the pure essence; holy thoughts, that dwell / In the soul's most retired, and sacred cell""",6200,,Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2005-08-17 00:00:00 UTC,•I've included twice: Cell and Dwelling,"The Satires of Aulus Persius Flaccus, Translated into English Verse",Inhabitants