work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context
3829,"","Searching ""soul"" and ""dross"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2005-07-19 00:00:00 UTC,"O happy regions, Italy and Spain,
Which never did those monsters entertain!
The Wolf, the Bear, the Boar, can there advance
No native claim of just inheritance;
And self-preserving laws, severe in show,
May guard their fences from the invading foe.
Where birth has placed them, let them safely share
The common benefit of vital air;
Themselves unharmful, let them live unharmed,
Their jaws disabled, and their claws disarmed;
Here, only in nocturnal howlings bold,
They dare not seize the Hind, nor leap the fold.
More powerful, and as vigilant as they,
The Lion awfully forbids the prey.
Their rage repressed, though pinched with famine sore,
They stand aloof, and tremble at his roar;
Much is their hunger, but their fear is more.
These are the chief; to number o'er the rest,
And stand, like Adam, naming every beast,
Were weary work; nor will the muse describe
A slimy-born and sun-begotten tribe;
Who, far from steeples and their sacred sound,
In fields their sullen conventicles found.
These gross, half-animated, lumps I leave;
Nor can I think what thoughts they can conceive.
But if they think at all, 'tis sure no higher
Than matter, put in motion, may aspire;
Souls that can scarce ferment their mass of clay;
So drossy, so divisible are they,
As would but serve pure bodies for allay;
Such souls as shards produce, such beetle things
As only buzz to heaven with evening wings;
Strike in the dark, offending but by chance,
Such are the blindfold blows of ignorance.
They know not beings, and but hate a name;
To them the Hind and Panther are the same.",,9876,"","""Souls that can scarce ferment their mass of clay; / So drossy, so divisible are they, / As would but serve pure bodies for allay.""",Metal,2011-03-08 21:22:01 UTC,""
3829,Inner and Outer,"Reading Michael McKeon's. The Secret History of Domesticity: Public, Private, and the Division of Knowledge. Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 2005. p. 40",2006-06-07 00:00:00 UTC,"Conscience is the Royalty and Prerogative of every Private man. He is absolute in his own Breast, and accountable to no Earthly Power, for that which passes only betwixt God and Him.",,9887,I've included twice: Royalty and Prerogative,"""Conscience is the Royalty and Prerogative of every Private man. He is absolute in his own Breast, and accountable to no Earthly Power, for that which passes only betwixt God and Him.""","",2009-09-14 19:34:33 UTC,"""To the Reader"""
3846,"","Searching ""heart"" and ""empire"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2004-08-19 00:00:00 UTC,"My Heart your Empire now disdains,
And Frown, or Smile, all's one to me:
The Slave has broke his Servial Chains,
And spight of all your Pride is free
From the Tyrannick Slavery.",,9890,"","""My Heart your Empire now disdains, / And Frown, or Smile, all's one to me.""",Empire,2013-06-17 23:33:52 UTC,""
3847,"","Searching ""heart"" and ""empire"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2004-08-19 00:00:00 UTC,"In courts I sought thee then, thy proper sphear
But thou in crowds we'rt stifl'd there,
Int'rest did all the loving business do,
Invites the youths and wins the Virgins too.
Or if by chance some heart thy empire own
(Ah power ingrate!) the slave must be undone.",,9891,"","By chance some heart may ""thy empire own""","",2009-09-14 19:34:33 UTC,""
3846,"","Searching ""conque"" and ""heart"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2005-02-09 00:00:00 UTC,"I must confess you're wondrous fair,
And know, to conquer such a Heart;
Is worth an Age of sad despair,
If Lovers Merits were Desert:
But you're unjust as well as fair,
And Love subsists not with despair,
No more than Lovers by the Air.",,9893,"","""I must confess you're wondrous fair, / And know, to conquer such a Heart""","",2009-09-14 19:34:33 UTC,""
3849,"","Searching ""heart"" and ""stamp"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2005-04-07 00:00:00 UTC,"Long have our Priests condemn'd a wicked Age,
And every little criticks sensless rage
Damn'd a forsaken self-declining stage:
Great 'tis confest and many are our crimes,
And no less profligate the vitious times,
But yet no wonder both prevail so ill,
The Poets fury and the Preachers skill;
While to the World it is so plainly known
They blame our faults, with great ones of their own,
Let their dull Pens flow with unlearned spight
And weakly censure what the skilful write;
You, learned Sir, a nobler passion shew,
Our best of rules and best example too.
Precepts and grave instructions dully move,
The brave Performer better do's improve,
Ver'st in the truest Satyr you excel
And shew how ill we write by writing well.
This noble Piece which well deserves your name
I read with pleasure thô I read with shame.
The tender Laurels which my brows had drest
Flag, like young Flowers, with too much heat opprest.
The generous fire I felt in every line
Shew'd me the cold, the feeble, force of mine.
Henceforth I'le you for imitation chuse
Your nobler flights will wing my Callow Muse;
So the young Eagle is inform'd to fly
By seeing the Monarch Bird ascend the sky.
And thô with less success her strength she'l try,
Spreads her soft plumes and his vast tracks persues
Thô far above the towring Prince she views:
High as she can she'll bear your deathless fame,
And make my song Immortal by your name.
But where the work is so Divinely wrought,
The rules so just and so sublime each thought,
When with so strict an Art your scenes are plac'd
With wit so new, and so uncommon, grac'd,
In vain, alas! I shou'd attempt to tell
Where, or in what, your Muse do's most excel.
Each character performs its noble part,
And stamps its Image on the Readers heart.
",,9894,"•INTEREST. Character, Image, Stamp all interacting here. See Lynch's work on character.","""Each character performs its noble part, / And stamps its Image on the Readers heart""","",2009-09-14 19:34:33 UTC,""
3852,"",Reading. Text from EEBO. http://name.umdl.umich.edu/A27305,2005-10-09 00:00:00 UTC,"In this time the Prince, who was return'd from Hunting, went to visit his Imoinda, but found her gone; and not only so, but heard she had receiv'd the Royal Veil. This rais'd him to a Storm; and in his Madness, they had much ado to save him from laying violent Hands on himself. Force first prevail'd, and then Reason: They urg'd all to him, that might oppose his Rage; but nothing weigh'd so greatly with him as the King's Old Age uncapable of injuring him with Imoinda. He wou'd give way to that Hope, because it pleas'd him most, and flatter'd best his Heart. Yet this serv'd not altogether to make him cease his different Passions, which sometimes rag'd within him, and sometimes softned into Showers. 'Twas not enough to appease him, to tell him, his Grand-father was old, and cou'd not that way injure him, while he retain'd that awful Duty which the young Men are us'd there to pay to their grave Relations. He cou'd not be convinc'd he had no Cause to sigh and mourn for the Loss of a Mistress, he cou'd not with all his Strength and Courage retrieve. And he wou'd often cry, O my Friends! were she in wall'd Cities, or confin'd from me in Fortifications of the greatest Strength; did Inchantments or Monsters detain her from me, I wou'd venture through any Hazard to free her: Buthere, in the Arms of a feeble old Man, my Youth, my violent Love, my Trade
in Arms, and all my vast Desire of Glory, avail me nothing: Imoinda is as irrecoverably lost to me, as if she were snatch'd by the cold Arms of Death: Oh! she is never to be retriev'd. If I wou'd wait tedious Years, till Fate shou'd bow the old King to his Grave; even that wou'd not leave me Imoinda free; but still that Custom that makes it so vile a Crime for a Son to marry his Father's Wives or Mistresses, wou'd hinder my Happiness; unless I wou'd either ignobly set an ill President to my Successors, or abandon my Country, and fly with her to some unknown World, who never heard our Story.
(pp. 36-38)",,9897,"•See also Aphra Behn. Oroonoko and other Writings. Ed. Paul Salzman. Oxford: OUP, 1994.","""This rais'd him to a Storm; and in his Madness, they had much ado to save him from laying violent Hands on himself""","",2009-09-14 19:34:33 UTC,""
3852,"",Reading. Text from EEBO. http://name.umdl.umich.edu/A27305,2005-10-09 00:00:00 UTC,"In this time the Prince, who was return'd from Hunting, went to visit his Imoinda, but found her gone; and not only so, but heard she had receiv'd the Royal Veil. This rais'd him to a Storm; and in his Madness, they had much ado to save him from laying violent Hands on himself. Force first prevail'd, and then Reason: They urg'd all to him, that might oppose his Rage; but nothing weigh'd so greatly with him as the King's Old Age uncapable of injuring him with Imoinda. He wou'd give way to that Hope, because it pleas'd him most, and flatter'd best his Heart. Yet this serv'd not altogether to make him cease his different Passions, which sometimes rag'd within him, and sometimes softned into Showers. 'Twas not enough to appease him, to tell him, his Grand-father was old, and cou'd not that way injure him, while he retain'd that awful Duty which the young Men are us'd there to pay to their grave Relations. He cou'd not be convinc'd he had no Cause to sigh and mourn for the Loss of a Mistress, he cou'd not with all his Strength and Courage retrieve. And he wou'd often cry, O my Friends! were she in wall'd Cities, or confin'd from me in Fortifications of the greatest Strength; did Inchantments or Monsters detain her from me, I wou'd venture through any Hazard to free her: Buthere, in the Arms of a feeble old Man, my Youth, my violent Love, my Trade
in Arms, and all my vast Desire of Glory, avail me nothing: Imoinda is as irrecoverably lost to me, as if she were snatch'd by the cold Arms of Death: Oh! she is never to be retriev'd. If I wou'd wait tedious Years, till Fate shou'd bow the old King to his Grave; even that wou'd not leave me Imoinda free; but still that Custom that makes it so vile a Crime for a Son to marry his Father's Wives or Mistresses, wou'd hinder my Happiness; unless I wou'd either ignobly set an ill President to my Successors, or abandon my Country, and fly with her to some unknown World, who never heard our Story.
(pp. 36-38)",,9898,"•See also Aphra Behn. Oroonoko and other Writings. Ed. Paul Salzman. Oxford: OUP, 1994.","""Yet this serv'd not altogether to make him cease his different Passions, which sometimes rag'd within him, and sometimes softned into Showers""","",2009-09-14 19:34:33 UTC,""
3853,"",Reading. Text from EEBO. http://name.umdl.umich.edu/A27305,2005-10-09 00:00:00 UTC,"At these Words she rose from his Feet, and snatching him in her Arms, he cou'd not defend himself from receiving a thousand Kisses from the lovely Mouth of the charming Wanton; after which, she ran her self, and in an instant put out the Candles. But he cry'd to her, In vain, O too indiscreet fair One; in vain you put out the Light; for [Page 51] Heaven still has Eyes, and will look down upon my broken Vows. I own your Power, I own I have all the Sense in the World of your charming Touches; I am frail Flesh and Blood, but yet--yet--yet I can resist; and I prefer my Vows to all your powerful Temptations.--I will be deaf and blind, and guard my Heart with Walls of Ice, and make you know, that when the Flames of true Devotion are kindled in a Heart, it puts out all other Fires; which are as ineffectual, as Candles lighted in the Face of the Sun.--Go, vain Wanton, and repent, and mortifie that Blood which has so shamefully betray'd thee, and which will one Day ruin both thy Soul and Body.--
(pp. 50-1)",2010-07-01,9899,"•See also Aphra Behn. Oroonoko and other Writings. Ed. Paul Salzman. Oxford: OUP, 1994.
•I've included twice: Wall of Ice and Flame","""I will be deaf and blind, and guard my Heart with Walls of Ice, and make you know, that when the Flames of true Devotion are kindled in a Heart, it puts out all other Fires; which are as ineffectual, as Candles lighted in the Face of the Sun.""","",2010-07-01 20:12:13 UTC,""
3853,"",Reading,2014-08-28 03:09:54 UTC,"There are a thousand things to be said of the Advantages this generous Passion brings to those, whose Hearts are capable of receiving its soft Impressions: for 'tis not every one that can be sensible of its tender Touches. How many Examples, from History and Observation, cou'd I give of its wondrous power; nay, even to a degree of Transmigration? How many Ideots has it made wise? How many Fools, eloquent? How many home-bread Squires, accomplish'd? How many Cowards, brave? And there is no sort or Species of Mankind, on whom it cannot work some Change and Miracle, if it be a noble, wellgrounded Passion, except on the Fop in fashion; the harden'd, incorrigible Fop; so often wounded, but never reclaim'd: For still, by a dire Mistake, conducted by vast Opinionatreism, and a greater portion of Self-Love, than the rest of the Race of Man, he believes that Affectation in his Mein and Dress, that Mathematical Movement, that Formality in every Action, that Face managed with Care, and softned into Ridicule, the languishing Turn, the Toss, and the Back shake of the Periwigg, is the direct Way to the Heart of the fine Person he adores; and instead of curing Love in his Soul, serves only to advance his Folly; and the more he is enamour'd, the more industriously he assumes (every Hour) the Coxcomb. These are Love's Play-things, a sort of Animals with whom he sports; and whom he never wounds, but when he is in good humour, and always shoots laughing. 'Tis the Diversion of the little God, to see what a fluttering and bustle one of these Sparks, new-wounded, makes; to what fantastick Fooleries he has recourse: The Glass is every moment call'd to Counsel, the Vallet consulted and plagu'd for new Invention of Dress, the Foot-man and Scrutore perpetually employ'd; Billetdoux and Madrigals take up all his Mornings, till Play-time in Dressing, till Night in Gazing; still, like a Sun-flower, turn'd towards the Beams of the fair Eyes of his Celia, adjusting himself in the most Amorous Posture he can assume, his Hat under his Arm, while the other Hand is put carelesly into his Bosom, as if laid upon his panting Heart; his Head a little bent to one side, supported with a world of Crevat-string, which he takes mighty care not to put into Disorder; as one may guess by a never-sailing, and horrid Stiffness in his Neck; and if he have an occasion to look aside, his whole Body turns at the same time, for fear the motion of the Head alone shou'd incommode the Crevat or Periwigg: And sometimes the Glove is well manag'd, and the white Hand displayed. Thus, with a thousand other little Motions and Formalities, all in the common Place or Rode of Foppery, he takes infinite pains to shew himself to the Pit and Boxes, a most accomplish'd Ass. This is he, of all Humane Kind, on whom Love can do no Miracles; and who can no where, and upon no Occasion, quit one Grain of his refin'd Foppery, unless in a Duel, or a Battle, if ever his Stars shou'd be so severe and ill-manner'd, to reduce him to the necessity of either: Fear then wou'd ruffle that fine Form he had so long preserved in nicest Order, with grief considering, that an unlucky, Chance-Wound in his Face, if such a dire Misfortune shou'd befal him, wou'd spoil the Sale of it for ever.
(pp. 2-5)",,24406,"","""There are a thousand things to be said of the Advantages this generous Passion brings to those, whose Hearts are capable of receiving its soft Impressions.""",Impressions,2014-08-28 03:09:54 UTC,""