work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context
4878,Ruling passion,"Searching HDIS for ""master passion""",2004-06-01 00:00:00 UTC," A Thousand Pounds your lavish Miss requires:
You answer not at first to her Desires:
Each diff'rent Trick she tries to gain her Ends;
She quarrels with you now, and now is Friends;
Now drives you from her House, now shews Disdain,
And now, capricious, calls you back again.
Break thro' these shameful Bonds--Your Folly see;
Resume yourself, and say at last, I'm free!
In vain--The Master-Passion governs still,
And forces you to yield against your Will.
",,13079,•I've decided to read the whole poem (a master-slave dialogue). INTEREST for chapters on Population. ,"""In vain--The Master-Passion governs still, / And forces you to yield against your Will""","",2014-08-06 03:58:34 UTC,""
4878,"","Searching HDIS for ""master passion""",2004-06-01 00:00:00 UTC,"Pleasure, the secret Spring that actuates Man,
Forms for both high and low, his future Plan;
Constant and pleas'd in Vice, some never change,
But, thoughtless, thro' each gay Delusion range;
Half-flesh'd in Vice, and trembling as he sins,
One Moment This gives off--the next begins;
To good or bad alternately inclin'd,
As Fear disturbs, or Joy elates, the Mind",,13080,•REVISIT. What are these springs? (Miruna has asked me this question twice now... Machines or fountains?),"Pleasure is ""the secret Spring that actuates man""","",2009-09-14 19:37:44 UTC,""
4878,"","Searching HDIS for ""master passion""",2004-06-01 00:00:00 UTC,"Rack'd with the Gout, and lame in both his Hands,
Avaro's Servant near his Master stands;
And as the Box and Dice go round the Board,
Loses and wins a Fortune for his Lord.
Worse than the other--Whom, thus robb'd of Pow'r.
His former Passions fatally devour!
Who, past the Act, will not the Pleasure miss,
But tastes by Proxy the forbidden Bliss!
",,13081,•REVISIT. What are these springs? (Miruna has asked me this question twice now... Machines or fountains?),"""Worse than the other--Whom, thus robb'd of Pow'r. / His former Passions fatally devour!""","",2012-07-03 17:21:07 UTC,""
4878,"","Searching HDIS for ""master passion""",2004-06-01 00:00:00 UTC,"VALET
Have Patience Sir--You warmly praise
The sober Manners of Eliza's Days;
Yet if some God would bring those Days again,
You'd sigh for these, nor could yourself contain:
""What you commend, you either think not right,
""Or have not Virtue to maintain the Fight.""
Stuck in the Mire, which first your Feet betray'd,
All your vain Struggles are untimely made;
Weak, impotent, yet wishing to be free,
You are by much a greater Slave, than me;
A Slave, to ev'ry Gust that shakes your Mind,
Your Eyes broad open, and your Senses blind.
",2011-08-31,13082,•Included twice: Government and Weather. Gust is a funny pun for appetite...,"""Weak, impotent, yet wishing to be free, / You are by much a greater Slave, than me; / A Slave, to ev'ry Gust that shakes your Mind, / Your Eyes broad open, and your Senses blind.""","",2011-08-31 04:20:27 UTC,""
4878,"","Searching HDIS for ""master passion""",2004-06-01 00:00:00 UTC," You seek the marry'd Dame--I walk the Street,
And pick up the first willing Wench I meet;
Lust eggs us both--Lust is in both the same;
Our Passions differ not, unless in Name;
She takes me to her Room--We kiss, we toy;
I task her to the Height of am'rous Joy--
Unhurt in Character, I quit her Charms,
Nor care what happier Rival fills her Arms.
Whilst you, disguis'd, and fearful to be known,
Quit, for the Habit of a Slave, your own.
Disguis'd in vain, wake from your foolish Dream,
And own yourself the very Slave you seem;
The Slave of Passion; which perverts Truth's Plan,
And sinks the virtuous in the vicious Man.
With Caution introduc'd, you trembling move,
Unfit for the rough Exercise of Love:
Behold, the Object of your Pleasure near,
You thrill with Rapture, and you shake with Fear.
The Husband comes--New Terrors fill your Head;
The dreaded Sword already dooms you dead.
Perhaps the Confidant, to save you, tries,
And hides you from the jealous Husband's Eyes.
Cramm'd in some Chest, you writhe all Night with Pain,
And dare not for your Safety once complain:
The Man whom, by your Rank, abroad you awe,
Sits in your Place, and gives his Lord the Law.
But tell me, Which for Vengeance loudest calls,
The Wretch who tempts, or who, when tempted, falls?
Alike to blame, but diff'ring in Degree,
Each Eye your greater Infamy can see.
Less criminal by far, she sought not you,
Nor chang'd her Garb, to shun the public View;
Ev'n in the Height of Joy, which warms the Heart,
She acted a constrain'd imperfect Part;
A cumb'rous Load within her Arms you lay,
And all her Joys dissolv'd in Fears away.
All this you know--yet risk for this your All,
Life, Fortune, Fame; what Men still dearest call.
But you escape--Well! does that make you wise,
Or open on your Follies, Reason's Eyes!
Caution'd in vain--Oh! ever Passion's Slave!
You tempt your Fate, and the same Dangers brave;
You seek again each Terror to renew,
And meet the Punishment so much your Due.
What Beast but Man, who once has broke his Chain,
Returns, and seeks to put it on again?
",2011-08-31,13084,"","""Disguis'd in vain, wake from your foolish Dream, / And own yourself the very Slave you seem; / The Slave of Passion; which perverts Truth's Plan, / And sinks the virtuous in the vicious Man.""","",2011-08-31 04:23:40 UTC,""
4878,Mind's Eye,"Searching HDIS for ""master passion""",2004-06-01 00:00:00 UTC,"You seek the marry'd Dame--I walk the Street,
And pick up the first willing Wench I meet;
Lust eggs us both--Lust is in both the same;
Our Passions differ not, unless in Name;
She takes me to her Room--We kiss, we toy;
I task her to the Height of am'rous Joy--
Unhurt in Character, I quit her Charms,
Nor care what happier Rival fills her Arms.
Whilst you, disguis'd, and fearful to be known,
Quit, for the Habit of a Slave, your own.
Disguis'd in vain, wake from your foolish Dream,
And own yourself the very Slave you seem;
The Slave of Passion; which perverts Truth's Plan,
And sinks the virtuous in the vicious Man.
With Caution introduc'd, you trembling move,
Unfit for the rough Exercise of Love:
Behold, the Object of your Pleasure near,
You thrill with Rapture, and you shake with Fear.
The Husband comes--New Terrors fill your Head;
The dreaded Sword already dooms you dead.
Perhaps the Confidant, to save you, tries,
And hides you from the jealous Husband's Eyes.
Cramm'd in some Chest, you writhe all Night with Pain,
And dare not for your Safety once complain:
The Man whom, by your Rank, abroad you awe,
Sits in your Place, and gives his Lord the Law.
But tell me, Which for Vengeance loudest calls,
The Wretch who tempts, or who, when tempted, falls?
Alike to blame, but diff'ring in Degree,
Each Eye your greater Infamy can see.
Less criminal by far, she sought not you,
Nor chang'd her Garb, to shun the public View;
Ev'n in the Height of Joy, which warms the Heart,
She acted a constrain'd imperfect Part;
A cumb'rous Load within her Arms you lay,
And all her Joys dissolv'd in Fears away.
All this you know--yet risk for this your All,
Life, Fortune, Fame; what Men still dearest call.
But you escape--Well! does that make you wise,
Or open on your Follies, Reason's Eyes!
Caution'd in vain--Oh! ever Passion's Slave!
You tempt your Fate, and the same Dangers brave;
You seek again each Terror to renew,
And meet the Punishment so much your Due.
What Beast but Man, who once has broke his Chain,
Returns, and seeks to put it on again?
",,13085,"","""Well! does that make you wise, / Or open on your Follies, Reason's Eyes!""",Eye,2009-09-14 19:37:45 UTC,""
4878,"","Searching HDIS for ""master passion""",2004-06-01 00:00:00 UTC,"You seek the marry'd Dame--I walk the Street,
And pick up the first willing Wench I meet;
Lust eggs us both--Lust is in both the same;
Our Passions differ not, unless in Name;
She takes me to her Room--We kiss, we toy;
I task her to the Height of am'rous Joy--
Unhurt in Character, I quit her Charms,
Nor care what happier Rival fills her Arms.
Whilst you, disguis'd, and fearful to be known,
Quit, for the Habit of a Slave, your own.
Disguis'd in vain, wake from your foolish Dream,
And own yourself the very Slave you seem;
The Slave of Passion; which perverts Truth's Plan,
And sinks the virtuous in the vicious Man.
With Caution introduc'd, you trembling move,
Unfit for the rough Exercise of Love:
Behold, the Object of your Pleasure near,
You thrill with Rapture, and you shake with Fear.
The Husband comes--New Terrors fill your Head;
The dreaded Sword already dooms you dead.
Perhaps the Confidant, to save you, tries,
And hides you from the jealous Husband's Eyes.
Cramm'd in some Chest, you writhe all Night with Pain,
And dare not for your Safety once complain:
The Man whom, by your Rank, abroad you awe,
Sits in your Place, and gives his Lord the Law.
But tell me, Which for Vengeance loudest calls,
The Wretch who tempts, or who, when tempted, falls?
Alike to blame, but diff'ring in Degree,
Each Eye your greater Infamy can see.
Less criminal by far, she sought not you,
Nor chang'd her Garb, to shun the public View;
Ev'n in the Height of Joy, which warms the Heart,
She acted a constrain'd imperfect Part;
A cumb'rous Load within her Arms you lay,
And all her Joys dissolv'd in Fears away.
All this you know--yet risk for this your All,
Life, Fortune, Fame; what Men still dearest call.
But you escape--Well! does that make you wise,
Or open on your Follies, Reason's Eyes!
Caution'd in vain--Oh! ever Passion's Slave!
You tempt your Fate, and the same Dangers brave;
You seek again each Terror to renew,
And meet the Punishment so much your Due.
What Beast but Man, who once has broke his Chain,
Returns, and seeks to put it on again?",2011-08-31,13086,"","""Caution'd in vain--Oh! ever Passion's Slave! / You tempt your Fate, and the same Dangers brave.""","",2011-08-31 04:25:40 UTC,""
4878,"","Searching HDIS for ""master passion""",2004-06-01 00:00:00 UTC,"VALET
Well, be it so--
But will you, Sir, the honest Reason know--
I am no Thief--Safe, to your Servant's Hands,
The Plate committed, in the Bufet stands:
But take away the Cause, which keeps us just,
We both alike should violate our Trust:
The Danger once remov'd, the Tempter nigh,
My Lord would be as great a Rogue, as I!
But you're my Master, as you say--What then!
You are as much the Slave of other Men:
Nor can the Rank in which the Great appear,
Give Freedom to the Mind oppress'd with Fear.
Yet more--This Argument will stand the Test--
Each House one Servant has, who rules the rest:
Yet tho' the others all obey his Will,
Butler or Steward, he's a Servant still.
Enlarge the Thought--I am your Slave, 'tis true;
But tell me honestly, whose Slave are you?
You serve a hundred Masters, I but one:
Your Drudg'ry never ends; mine soon is done:
Let P****m or N******e pull the Wire,
The Puppet dances, to their Hearts Desire;
Compell'd by secret Springs, to him unknown,
The Engine moves with Motions not its own.",,13087,"•The ""wire"" here is a kind of pun too (I think). Wires are nerves and the puppet moves when they are pulled.
•I've included twice: Engine and Springs.","A puppet may be ""compell'd by secret Springs"" just as an engine ""moves with Motions not its own""","",2009-09-14 19:37:45 UTC,""
5189,"","Searching ""conque"" and ""heart"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2005-02-10 00:00:00 UTC,"Say, Galatea, say my lovely Maid,
Why thus with Scorn are all my Vows repaid?
Thy Skin is whiter than the whitest Cheese,
And softer than the Lambkin's downy Fleece:
Less gamesome o'er the Mead young Heifers run,
Less harsh the Grapes, ere purpled by the Sun.
Oft as I slumber, you forsake the Main,
And wildly wanton o'er the verdant Plain;
I wake, and quick my fearful Fair-one flies,
As when a Lamb the hoary Wolf espies.
Then first my Bosom caught this am'rous Flame,
When with my Mother to these Fields you came;
Your Bus'ness was to pluck the Flowrets gay
From yonder Hill; I joyful led the Way:
From that same Hour I never knew Repose,
While you, inhuman, triumph o'er my Woes.
I guess, dear Nymph, the Cause of all your Scorn,
No winning Charms my homelier Face adorn;
One black continued Arch from Ear to Ear
My Eye-brow spreads, horrid with shaggy Hair;
And stern the Ball, that solitary glows
Amid my Front; and flat and large my Nose.
But, tho' my Features are not form'd for Love,
Vast is my Wealth, and surely Wealth may move:
A thousand Ewes I feed in yonder Vales,
Whose teeming Udders crown the foaming Pails;
What Loads of Cheeses on my Shelves appear
Thro' all the varying Seasons of the Year!
Beside the tuneful Pipe I handle well,
And all th' harmonious Family excel:
Full oft I warble to the Ev'ning Wind,
And with thy Beauties feast my flatter'd Mind.
For thee twelve pregnant Does I feed with Care;
For thee four Cubs I ravish'd from the Bear;
Haste to my Arms! they all are thine, my Fair;
Haste to my Arms! and, while the distant Roar
Of bursting Billows thunders on the Shore,
Let us, entranc'd in amorous Delight,
Within my peaceful Bow'r consume the Night.
Blest rural Scene! Here tow'rs the Cypress Grove,
And there the Laurel Shades invite to Love;
Here clasping Ivy creeps; the Vineyard there
Bends with the blushing Burden of the Year;
Here murm'ring glides the silver-sparkling Rill,
Nectareous Draught, from Ætna's snowy Hill:
'Tis more delightful sure to dwell with me,
Than bear the stormy Regions of the Sea.
But if less happy in a pleasing Frame,
My rougher Look forbids a mutual Flame,
Behold my Fires of Oak, that, blazing high,
Are still renew'd with Fuel, ne'er to die!
Yes, and in Flames my very Soul shou'd burn,
Nay, this broad Orb, from it's deep Socket torn,
And I for Thee wou'd deem the Forfeit small,
So dearly as I love the precious Ball.
O, that kind Nature had my Frame supply'd
With oary Fins to cleave the liquid Tide!
To visit Thee I oft wou'd quit the Land,
And, if deny'd thy Lips, wou'd kiss thy Hand:
Lilies and Poppies I to the Thee wou'd bear,
Ev'n all the blooming Produce of the Year.
When next some Sailor anchors in the Bay,
My Limbs shall learn to cut the wat'ry Way;
Then shall I know what Joys my Nymph detain,
And what the dear Amusements of the Main.
O, quit the Waves, and, list'ning to my Lays,
Forget thy pearly Grots, and native Seas!
Like me, for thy sweet Sake who pining sit,
Move not, nor mark the Minutes, as they fleet.
Together we will tend the fleecy Breed,
Together milk them, and together feed,
The dripping Cheese with Hands united press,
Or mix the Rennet with the curdling Mass.
My Mother most I blame; who daily sees
My Care-worn Limbs consuming by Degrees,
And never (O unkind!) by Pity won,
Spoke once in Favour of her dying Son:
But with dissembled Woes I'll wound her Ear,
'Till she shall all my real anguish share.
O wretched Polypheme! O silly Swain!
What Frenzy seizes thy distemper'd Brain?
Recal thy Prudence, act the wiser Part,
Nor hope the Conquest of that stubborn Heart:
Hie to thy Cell, the pliant Oziers weave,
And to thy Lambs the verdant Cyons give.
The ancient Maxim of the Swain is wise,
""Milk her that's near, pursue not her that flies.""
Tho' this with proud Disdain rejects thy Love,
A fairer Galatea kind may prove.
Oft to my Cave the Girls by Night resort,
And loud invite me to their Revel-Sport;
And when I kindly with their Call comply,
A universal Titter tells their Joy.
However Sea-Nymphs may despise my Flame,
On Earth sure Polypheme's no vulgar Name.
",,13953,"","""Nor hope the Conquest of that stubborn Heart""","",2009-09-14 19:39:34 UTC,""
7235,"","Searching ""soul"" and ""bird"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2012-04-27 20:37:19 UTC,"In Christ, his work and word
I trust, why should ye say,
That like a tim'rous bird
My soul must wing her way,
And flee from those, whose deadly skill
At worst can but the body kill?",,19731,"","""In Christ, his work and word / I trust, why should ye say, / That like a tim'rous bird / My soul must wing her way, / And flee from those, whose deadly skill / At worst can but the body kill?""",Animals,2012-04-27 20:37:19 UTC,""