id,comments,provenance,dictionary,created_at,reviewed_on,work_id,theme,context,updated_at,metaphor,text
9700,"","Searching ""impression"" and ""mind"" in HDIS (Poetry)",Impression,2005-05-15 00:00:00 UTC,,3761,"","",2011-12-21 18:07:47 UTC,"""This made Impression on some easie Minds, / Whom or good Nature, or false Pity blinds.""","Thus on a sure Foundation, as they thought,
They had their Structure to Perfection wrought
When God, who shews regard to Sacred Kings,
The Plot and Plotters to Confusion brings,
And in a moment down their Babel flings.
A Levite, who had Baalite turn'd, and bin
One of the Order of the Chemarim,
Who in the Plot had deeply been concern'd,
And all their horrid Practices had learn'd;
Smote in his Conscience with a true Remorse,
From King and Land diverts the threat'ning Curse.
Libni, I think they call'd the Levite's Name,
Which in Judea still will be of Fame;
Since following Heaven's Impulse and high Command,
He prov'd a Glorious Saviour of the Land.
By him the deep Conspiracy's o'rethrown,
The Treason, and the Traytors all made known:
For which from Baalites he had Curses store;
But by the Jews loaded with Blessings more.
The Hellish Plotters were then seiz'd upon,
And into Goals and Iron Fetters thrown;
From whence to Lawful Tryals they were born,
Condemn'd for Traytors, and hang'd up with Scorn:
Yet Chemarims with matchless Impudence,
With dying Breath avow'd their Innocence:
So careful of their Order they still were,
Lest Treason in them Scandal should appear,
That Treason they with Perjury pursue,
Having their Arch-priest's Licence so to do.
They fear'd not to go perjur'd to the Grave,
Believing their Arch-priest their Souls could save:
For all God's Power they do on him bestow,
And call him their Almighty God below.
To whom they say three powerful Keys are given,
Of Hell, of Purgatory, and of Heav'n.
No wonder then if Baalites this believe,
They should, with their false Oaths try to deceive,
And gull the People with their Dying Breath,
Denying all their Treason at their Death.
This made Impression on some easie Minds,
Whom or good Nature, or false Pity blinds;
Mov'd their Compassion, and stirr'd up their Grief,
And of their dying Oaths caus'd a Belief.
This did effect what the curs'd Traytors sought,
The Plots Belief into Discredit brought,
Of it at first, some Doubts they only rais'd,
And with their Impudence the World amaz'd:
Tho' Azyad's Murder did the Jews convince,
Who was a man most Loyal to his Prince,
And by the Bloody Chemarims did fall,
Because he seiz'd the Trayt'rous Priests of Baal:
Tho' Gedaliah's Letters made all plain,
Who was their Scribe, and of a ready Brain:
A Levite's Son, but turn'd a Baalite,
Who for the King's own Brother then did write,
And Correspondence kept i'th' Egyptian Court,
To whom the Traytors for Advice resort;
Who like a zealous, trayt'rous Baalite dy'd,
And at the Fatal Tree the Plot deny'd.
Tho' Amazia did at first believe,
And to the Hellish Plot did Credit give;
Tho' the Great Council of the Sanhedrim,
Among the Jews always of grèat Esteem,
Declar'd to all the World this Plot to be,
An Hellish, and a curs'd Conspiracy,
To kill the King, Religion to o'rethrow,
And cause the Jews their Righteous Laws foregoe;
To make the People to dumb Idols fall,
And in the place of God, to set up Baal:
Tho' all the People saw it, and believ'd;
Tho' Courts of Justice, hard to be deceiv'd,
Had added to the rest their Evidence,
Yet with a strange unheard of Impudence,
The Baalites all so stoutly had deny'd
Their Hellish Plot, with Vows and Oaths beside,
And with such Diligence themselves apply'd.
They at the last, their sought for point had got,
And artfully in doubt had brought their Plot.
A thousand cunning Shams and Tricks they us'd,
Whereby the simple Vulgar were abus'd;
And some o'th' Edomitish Evidence,
Who Mammon worship'd, were brought off with pence.
Libni, for whom, before their Harps they strung,
Who was the Subject of each Hebrew's Song,
Was villify'd by every Rascall's Tongue.
In Secret, and inglorious did remain,
And the Plot thought the Project of his Brain."
9719,"","Searching ""impression"" and ""mind"" in HDIS (Poetry); found again ""heart""",Impression,2005-05-12 00:00:00 UTC,,3770,"",I've included the entire poem,2009-09-14 19:34:26 UTC,"""You say you love, but I had rather See't, / Shew loves impression in a wounded heart""","You say you love, but I had rather See't,
Shew loves impression in a wounded heart,
Words are but mind, and strangers thus may greet,
But doing, doing, that's the proving part."
10160,"","Searching ""stamp"" and ""mind"" in HDIS (Poetry)",Impressions,2005-04-06 00:00:00 UTC,,3916,"","",2013-07-02 17:37:51 UTC,"""I their rude, inbred Cruelty refin'd, / And stampt my perfect Image on their Mind.""","Then thus the Fury Persecution spake:
I mighty Prince of Hell, will undertake
This glorious Work, I quickly will inspire
Hoel, with my ungovernable Fire.
Without remorse he shall my Will Obey,
And crush this Briton, now his easy Prey.
Nero by me rais'd his illustrious Name,
And Dioclesian got Immortal Fame.
I their rude, inbred Cruelty refin'd,
And stampt my perfect Image on their Mind.
My flames all Love's course mixture did destroy,
And purg'd off soft Compassion's base alloy;
I form'd and dissiplin'd their untaught Hate,
And rais'd their fierceness to a perfect State:
Where shame, and all reflecting Sense is lost,
And Hell can't purer strains of Malice boast.
Inexorable they all Cries withstood,
Ravish'd with Slaughter, and regal'd with Blood.
Hard marble Rocks might with more ease relent,
And Fire and Plague learn sooner to repent.
Then Christian Kings my Fury entertain'd,
And taught by me, in Blood and Slaughter reign'd.
With pious Rage and fierce destructive Zeal,
I first inspir'd their Minds, and did reveal
The mystery, how deep Revenge to take,
And slay the Servants for the Masters sake.
How bloody Wrath might with Devotion joyn,
And sacred Zeal with Cruelty combine.
By me the unknown way they understood,
T'attone the Christian's God with Christian Blood.
By me they shook off Fear's and Love's Restraints;
And on God's Altars burnt his slaughter'd Saints.
I made them call, that all Remorse might cease,
Murder Compassion, Desolation Peace.
Whilst my infernal Heats their Breasts inspir'd,
To the vile Sect their own mad Zeal acquir'd,
Wider Destruction, and more fatal Harms,
Then all your Scythian, or your Gothick Arms:
And Rome, proud Rome her self must owe to me
Her present State, and future Dignity.
The greatest Genius this, I e'er could find,
And to receive my Image best inclin'd.
I will her Mind inspire, and to her Heart
Immortal hate, to Abel's Race impart.
These Breasts she empties with her Infant Jaws,
I file her Teeth, and shape her tender Claws.
I Nurse her on the horrid Alps high Tops,
And feed her hunger with Cerberean Sops
Dipt in Tartarean Gall, and Hemlock Juice,
That in her Veins will noble Blood produce.
Fierce Tygers, Dragons, Wolves about her stay,
They grin, and snap, and bite, and snarling play.
I to her Jaws, throw Infants newly Born;
She sucks their Blood, and by her Teeth are torn
Their tender Limbs, while I rejoyce to see
Such noble Proofs of growing Cruelty.
To her wide Breast, and vast capacious Soul,
I often Torrents of black Poison rowl:
She drinks the livid Flood, and thro her Veins
Mad Fury runs, and wild Distraction reigns.
I'll lead her from the Rocks, her Strength full grown,
Fix her high Seat in the imperial Town,
And give her Scarlet, and a threefold Crown.
No Blood will then her mighty Thirst asswage,
No Ravage cloy her Antichristian Rage.
Her mitred Sons that never can relent,
From the great Cain shall prove their high Descent.
Their Deeds of strange infernal Cruelty,
Shall shew their Race worthy of Him and me.
Lay-Bigots, I with Time and Labour wrought,
Some inward Grudgings still against me fought:
'Twas hard to raise their hate to a degree,
From struggling Nature, and all Pity free.
But these Church-Zealots, of a truer Breed,
Are form'd with Ease, and scarce my Labour need.
Their forward Genius without teaching grows,
And all my hopes, and ev'n my Wish out-does.
How often shall thy Glorious Sons, O Rome,
With Martyrs Flames inlighten Christendom?
How often shall they, to deride their God,
Lift up in Prayer, their Hands all full of Blood?
The wasted World shall feel their loud Alarms,
Their blest Massacres, and their hallowed Arms.
As if their high intent were to Efface,
All Foot-steps left of Abel's hateful Race.
Bloody Tribunals, Rapine, Fire and Sword,
And Desolation, daily Sport afford.
Mankind they shall with such dire Plagues attack,
As will their Church a holy Desart make.
Such is my Zeal to serve th' Infernal State,
And shall this British Prince escape my Hate?
Forbid it Hell, and here she made a pause;
The Lords in Council gave a loud Applause.
The Prince of Darkness leaping from his Place,
Did in his Arms, his darling Fiend embrace:
Her Anger then rose higher, and all Hell
Uneasie seem'd, she grew so terrible."
10161,"","Searching ""stamp"" and ""mind"" in HDIS (Poetry)",Impressions,2005-04-06 00:00:00 UTC,,3916,"","",2013-07-02 17:39:19 UTC,"""He teaches sacred Myst'ries yet behind, / And stamps the Christian Image on his Mind.""","He ended, Hoel highly pleas'd, exprest
The grateful Sense, which fill'd his joyful Breast.
Methinks he cry'd, I view th' Infernal Caves,
And see the Damn'd float on the raging Waves
In the dire Lake, where flaming Brimstone rolls,
And hear the dismal Groans of tortur'd Souls:
Then looking up, I see the Blest above,
Dissolv'd in Raptures of Eternal Love.
I seem to view their bright, triumphant Throngs,
And hear their Harps, and sweet Harmonious Songs.
Then he the Briton various questions asks,
Who with great Joy performs the pious Tasks,
He teaches sacred Myst'ries yet behind,
And stamps the Christian Image on his Mind."
10396,"","Searching ""mind"" and ""impression"" in HDIS (Poetry)",Impressions,2005-05-12 00:00:00 UTC,2004-06-10,4011,"","",2011-06-06 03:10:16 UTC,"""His Suff'rings on my Mind a deep Impression leave.""","Congreve to ev'ry Theme does Beauty give,
His fair Almeria will for ever live.
Homer looks great in his rich English Dress;
So well he Priam's Sorrow does express,
That I with him for valiant Hector grieve;
His Suff'rings on my Mind a deep Impression leave.
With sad Andromache a part I bear,
With her in all her Lamentations share:
With Hecuba bewail a darling Son,
Who for his Country glorious Things had done:
His Country, which its Prop thus snatch'd away,
She knew must to the Græcians fall a Prey;
And she with all her House must foreign Lords obey."
10467,"•Impressions are here physicalized and ""felt""","Searching ""reason"" and ""impression"" in HDIS (Poetry)",Impression,2005-05-20 00:00:00 UTC,,4038,"","",2009-09-14 19:35:00 UTC,"""My Reasons always due Impressions made, / Proofs that are felt, are fittest to perswade.""","Then Bigottry, with Hellish Fury stung,
Did with a Voice that thro' the Palace rung,
Hell's Potentates in Council thus bespeak:
Spain to support, and Albion's Force to break,
Illustrious Princes, is your high Design;
I ask that glorious Province may be mine.
No Minister did e'er with greater Zeal,
Or more Success, promote the Cause of Hell.
Since in your Service, I was first employ'd,
I have your Foes without Remorse destroy'd.
My Mistress, Rome, will own I serv'd her more
Than all her Skill, and all her Pow'r before:
My self alone found out th'effectual Art,
Apostates to extirpate, or convert.
The rankest Weeds of baneful Heresy,
Have from the Church been rooted out by me.
My Racks have set Mens Understandings right;
My Dungeons bless'd them with convincing Light.
Rebels have been reduc'd at my Expence,
Inform'd by Whips, and tortur'd into Sense:
My Reasons always due Impressions made,
Proofs that are felt, are fittest to perswade:
I to the Mind explor'd the ready way,
And by the Senses, Knowledge did convey.
My Arguments with ease are understood,
Adapted to the Man, and clear to Flesh and Blood;
And Reason to our Senses clear and plain,
Will quickly to the Mind, Admission gain:
O what convincing Force have Prisons, Want, and Pain!
My Eloquence must still successful prove;
Those most prevail, who most the Passions move.
No Orator did e'er his Skill display,
In such a moving and Pathetick way."
11450,"","Searching ""mind"" and ""impression"" in HDIS (Poetry)",Impression,2005-05-16 00:00:00 UTC,,4357,"","",2009-09-14 19:35:54 UTC,"""But if a Love of the sublimest Kind / Can make Impressions on a gen'rous Mind:""","Sometimes I please my self, and think you are
Too good, to make me wretched by Despair.
That Tenderness, which in your Soul is plac'd,
Will move you to Compassion sure at last.
But when I come to take a serious View
Of my own Merits, I despond of you,
For what can Delia, beauteous Delia see,
To raise in her the least Esteem of me?
I've nought that can encourage my Address,
My Fortune's little; and my Worth is less.
But if a Love of the sublimest Kind
Can make Impressions on a gen'rous Mind:
If all has real Value, that's Divine,
There cannot be a nobler Flame than mine."
11451,"","Searching ""mind"" and ""impression"" in HDIS (Poetry); found again ""soul""",Impression,2005-05-16 00:00:00 UTC,,4358,"","Providence, V.",2009-09-14 19:35:54 UTC,"""Or how the Mem'ry does th' Impression take / Of Things, and to the Mind restores 'em back.""","Bold is the Wretch, and blasphemous the Man,
Who, Finite, will attempt to Scan
The Works of Him that's infinitely Wise,
And those he cannot Comprehend, denies;
As if a space Immense were measurable by a Span.
Thus the proud Sceptick will not own
That Providence the World directs,
Or its Affair inspects,
But leaves it to it self alone.
How does it with Almighty Grandeur suit,
To be concern'd with our Impertinence;
Or interpose his Power for the Defence
Of a poor Mortal, or a senseless Brute?
Villains could never so successful prove,
And unmolested in those Pleasures live,
Which Honour, Ease, and Affluence give:
While such as Heaven adore, and Virtue love,
And most the care of Providence deserve,
Oppress'd with Pain, and Ignominy starve.
What Reason can the wisest show,
Why Murder does unpunish'd go?
If the most High, that's Just and Good,
Intends and governs all below;
And yet regards not the loud Cries of guiltless Blood.
But shall we things unsearchable deny,
Because our Reason cannot tell us why
They are allow'd or acted by the Deity?
'Tis equally above the reach of Thought
To comprehend, how Matter should be brought
From Nothing, as Existent be
From all Eternity.
And yet that Matter is, we feel and see,
Nor is it easier to define
What Ligatures the Soul and Body join:
Or how the Mem'ry does th' Impression take
Of Things, and to the Mind restores 'em back."
21425,"",C-H Lion,"",2013-07-02 18:48:28 UTC,,3938,"",Book VIII,2013-07-02 18:48:28 UTC,"""We are not pleas'd a glorious World to know, / Whereof our Senses no Impression show.""","The chiefest Terrors which in Death we dread,
Are in our own Imagination bred.
We are not pleas'd a glorious World to know,
Whereof our Senses no Impression show.
Reluctant Sense declines the untrodden Path,
Tho aided both by Reason and by Faith.
Empty phantastic Horrors hence arise
Which fright the vulgar, not the brave and wise.
Th'advancing Shades of Death weak Nature scare,
As hideous Forms and Monsters drawn in Air:
Which issuing forth from the dark Womb of Night
Impregnated with Fear, weak Minds affright.
If tender Infants who imprison'd stay
Within the Womb, prepar'd to break away,
Were conscious of themselves, and of their State,
And had but Reason to sustain Debate,
The painful Passage they would dread, and show
Reluctance to a World they do not know.
They in their Prisons still would chuse to ly
As backward to be born, as we to dy.
This is the Christian's Case detain'd on Earth,
Whose Death is nothing, but his Heav'nly Birth.
Yet still he fears the dark and unknown Way,
Still backwards shrinks, still meditates Delay,
And fresh Excuses finds for longer Stay.
(Bk VIII, p. 209, ll. 163-87)"
21432,"",C-H Lion,"",2013-07-02 19:00:32 UTC,,3938,"",Book VIII,2013-07-02 19:00:32 UTC,"""At such Reflections do's not Nature start, / And try at every Spring to touch your Heart? / Do's not soft Pity's fire begin to burn, / Do not your yearning Bowels in you turn? / In such a case Breasts arm'd with temper'd Steel / And Hearts of Marble, should impression feel.""","These are next you, of all my Joys the chief,
But if you die will give me no Relief,
But minding me of you, revive my Grief.
When on them I shall look theyll but invite
New floods of Tears, and fresh Complaints excite.
Can't these endearing Pledges of our Love
Dissolve your Heart, and your Compassion move?
Can you these sweet Delights chuse to forsake,
And from the helpless Babes their Father take?
Think how their Lives they must in Sorrow spend,
Who will you leave your Orphans to defend?
You know your Foes will labour to Oppress
Your helpless Widow, and your Fatherless.
Can such a Father e'er Unnatural prove,
Cease to be tender, and forget to Love?
Can you lay by th'Indulgent Parent's care,
And leave these Babes abandon'd to despair?
At such Reflections do's not Nature start,
And try at every Spring to touch your Heart?
Do's not soft Pity's fire begin to burn,
Do not your yearning Bowels in you turn?
In such a case Breasts arm'd with temper'd Steel
And Hearts of Marble, should impression feel.
Then on her bended Knees she fell, and fast,
All drown'd in Tears, his Fetter'd Limbs embrac'd.
And thus she cry'd, here ever will I stay,
Here will I lie, here beg, and weep, and pray,
And strive in Sighs to breath my Life away;
Till Clovis shall our heavy Doom retrieve,
And say he do's at last consent to Live.
(Bk VIII, p. 223, ll. 569-598)"