text,updated_at,metaphor,created_at,context,theme,reviewed_on,dictionary,comments,provenance,id,work_id
"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.",2011-12-21 18:07:47 UTC,"""This made Impression on some easie Minds, / Whom or good Nature, or false Pity blinds.""",2005-05-15 00:00:00 UTC,"","",,Impression,"","Searching ""impression"" and ""mind"" in HDIS (Poetry)",9700,3761
"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.",2009-09-14 19:34:26 UTC,"""You say you love, but I had rather See't, / Shew loves impression in a wounded heart""",2005-05-12 00:00:00 UTC,I've included the entire poem,"",,Impression,"","Searching ""impression"" and ""mind"" in HDIS (Poetry); found again ""heart""",9719,3770
"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.",2013-07-02 17:37:51 UTC,"""I their rude, inbred Cruelty refin'd, / And stampt my perfect Image on their Mind.""",2005-04-06 00:00:00 UTC,"","",,Impressions,"","Searching ""stamp"" and ""mind"" in HDIS (Poetry)",10160,3916
"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.",2013-07-02 17:39:19 UTC,"""He teaches sacred Myst'ries yet behind, / And stamps the Christian Image on his Mind.""",2005-04-06 00:00:00 UTC,"","",,Impressions,"","Searching ""stamp"" and ""mind"" in HDIS (Poetry)",10161,3916
"The more thy years, the nearer thy grave.
Youth and white paper take any impression.
(p. 24)",2011-06-28 03:27:55 UTC,"""Youth and white paper take any impression.""",2011-06-28 03:27:55 UTC,"","",,Writing,"",Searching in Google Books,18838,3326
"A Good Conscience is the Testimony of a Good Life, and the Reward of it. This is it that fortifies the Mind against Fortune, when a Man has gotten the Mastery of his Passions; plac'd his Treasure, and his Security within himself; learned to be content with his Condition; and that Death is no Evil in itself but only the End of Man. He that has dedicated his Mind to Virtue, and to the Good of Human Society, whereof he is a Member, has consummated all that is either Profitable or Necessary for him to Know, or Do toward the Establishment of his Peace. Every Man has a Judge, and a Witness within himself, of all the Good, and lll that he Does; which inspires us with great Thoughts, and administers to us wholsome Counsels. We have a Veneration for all the Works pf Nature, the Heads of Rivers, and the Springs of Medicinal Waters: the Horrors of Groves, and of Caves, strike us with an Impression of Religion and Worship. To see a Man Fearless in Dangers, Untainted with Lusts, Happy in Adversity, Compos'd in a Tumult, and Laughing at all those Things which are generally either Coveted or Feared; all Men must acknowledge, that this can be nothing else but a Beam of Divinity that Influences a Mortal Body. And this is it that carries us to the Disquisition of Things Divine, and Human; What the state of the World was before the Distribution of the First Matter into Parts; what Power it was that drew Order out of that Confusion, and gave Laws both to the whole, and to every Particle thereof; what that Space is beyond the World; and whence proceed the several Operations of Nature. Shall any Man see the Glory, and Order of the Universe; so many scatter'd Parts, and Qualities wrought into one Mass; such a Medly of Things, which are yet distinguished; the World enlighten'd, and the Disorders of it so wonderfully Regulated; and, shall he not consider the Author, and Disposer of all this; and, whither we our selves shall go, when our Souls shall bedeliver'd from the Slavery of our Flesh? The whole Creation, we see, conforms to the Dictates of Providence, and follows God both as a Governour, and as a Guide. A Great, a Good, and a Right Mind, is a kind of Divinity lodg'd in Flesh, and may be the Blessing of a Slave, as well as of a Prince; it came from Heaven, and to Heaven it must return; and it is a kind of Heavenly Felicity, which a pure, and virtuous Mind enjoys, in some Degree, even upon Earth: Whereas Temples of Honour are but empty Names, which probably owe their Beginning either to Ambition, or to Violence. I am strangely transported with the Thoughts of Eternity; Nay, with the Belief of it; for I have a profound Veneration for the Opinions of Great Men, especially when they promise Things so much to my Satisfaction: for they do Promise them, though they do not Prove them. In the Question of the Immortality of the the Soul, it goes very far with me, a General Consent to the Opinion of a Future Reward, and Punishment; which Meditation raises me to the Contempt of this Lise, in hopes of a Better. But still, though we know that we have a Soul; yet, What the Soul is, How, and from Whence, we are utterly Ignorant: This only we understand, that all the Good, and lll we do, is under the Dominion of the Mind; that a Clear Conscience states us in an Inviolable Peace: And, that the greatest Blessing in Nature, is that, which every honest Man may bestow upon himself.
The Body is but the Clog and Prisoner of the Mind; tossed up and down, and persecuted with Punishments, Violences, and Diseases; but the Mind it self is Sacred, and Eternal, and exempt from the Danger of all Actual Impression.
(pp. 138-40)",2011-09-20 16:12:36 UTC,"""The Body is but the Clog and Prisoner of the Mind; tossed up and down, and persecuted with Punishments, Violences, and Diseases; but the Mind it self is Sacred, and Eternal, and exempt from the Danger of all Actual Impression.""",2011-09-20 16:12:36 UTC,"Of A Happy Life, Chapter VI","",,Fetters,"","Searching ""mind"" in Google Books",19191,7097
"Now the Reader will think me a meer Thracian, thus to Celebrate my own Nativity with Tears.--But I cannot avoid it,--when e're I reflect what a nasty World I then came into, how crowded with Fools and Knaves; how much pain for a little tast of what we call pleasure:--How the greatest part on't is an arrant cheat, and a mischievous one besides,--how little a while we generally stay in't, and yet how unfit to go out on't;--all these Reflections are now so strongly imprinted on my mind, that indeed I wonder how I could be perswaded to come abroad into Light; and had not the innate Sympathetical Love I had for Rambling even before I knew what either that or my self was, toll'd me on; I might possibly have staid as long in my Mother's Lodgings, as the Physitians tell us the Child of a certain French Woman did, who went sixteen years before she was Delivered.
(I. , pp. 34-5)",2013-06-18 21:07:38 UTC,"""How the greatest part on't is an arrant cheat, and a mischievous one besides,--how little a while we generally stay in't, and yet how unfit to go out on't;--all these Reflections are now so strongly imprinted on my mind, that indeed I wonder how I could be perswaded to come abroad into Light.""",2013-06-18 21:07:38 UTC,"","",,Impressions,"",C-H Lion,20959,7476
"The first and choicest care of young Evander, as to this World, was how to please his Master, whom he was now marry'd to, for better for worse, for seven long years together, a great part of his life, and upon which all the rest depended. And so acceptable was this care, so tender a regard had he to this his industrious, though unworthy Servant, that he shall ever retain grateful resentments of the same till he's all Dust and Worms-meat. And how deeply his Character is imprinted in my heart, shall be seen by this Impression wrought off from it, shewing what he was, is, and none else ever shall be.
(II, pp. 204-5)",2013-06-19 01:25:47 UTC,"""And how deeply his Character is imprinted in my heart, shall be seen by this Impression wrought off from it, shewing what he was, is, and none else ever shall be.""",2013-06-19 01:25:47 UTC,"","",,Impressions,"",C-H Lion,20982,7476
"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)",2013-07-02 18:48:28 UTC,"""We are not pleas'd a glorious World to know, / Whereof our Senses no Impression show.""",2013-07-02 18:48:28 UTC,Book VIII,"",,"","",C-H Lion,21425,3938
"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)",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.""",2013-07-02 19:00:32 UTC,Book VIII,"",,"","",C-H Lion,21432,3938