text,updated_at,metaphor,created_at,context,theme,reviewed_on,dictionary,comments,provenance,id,work_id
"Cease, prithee, Muse, thus to infest
The barren Region of my Breast,
Which never can an Harvest yield,
Since Weeds of Noise o'er-run the Field.
If Interest wont oblige thee to it,
At least let Vengeance make thee do it;
'Cause I thy Sweets and Charms oppose,
In bidding Youth become thy Foes.
But nought, I see, will drive thee hence,
Threats, Business, or Impertinence.
But still thou dost thy Joys obtrude
Upon a Mind so wholly rude,
As can't afford to entertain
Thee, with the Welcome of one Strain.
Few Friends, like thee, wou'd be so kind,
To come where Interest does not bind;
[Page 66]
And fewer yet return again,
After such Coldness and Disdain.
But thou, kind Friend, art none of those;
Thy Charms thou always do'st oppose
Against Inquietude of Mind;
If I'm displeas'd, still thou art kind;
And with thy Spells driv'st Griefs away,
Which else wou'd make my Heart their Prey.
And fill'st their empty Places too,
With Thoughts of what we ought to do.
Thou'rt to my Mind so very good,
Its Consolation, Physick, Food.
Thou fortify'st it in Distress;
In Joy augment'st its Happiness:
Inspiring me with harmless Rhimes,
To praise good Deeds, detest all Crimes.
Then, gentle Muse, be still my Guest;
Take full Possession of my Breast.
(pp. 65-6)",2009-09-14 19:35:51 UTC,"Her Muse may ""And with thy Spells driv'st Griefs away,
Which else wou'd make my Heart their Prey""",2005-08-09 00:00:00 UTC,"Chapter 2: Embedded poem ""To My Muse""","",,"","",Searching in HDIS (Prose),11400,4346
"Pleasures are ever in our hands or eyes,
And when in act they cease, in prospect rise;
Present to grasp, and future still to find,
The whole employ of body and of mind.
All spread their charms, but charm not all alike ,
On diff'rent Senses diff'rent objects strike;
Hence diff'rent Passions more or less inflame,
As strong, or weak, the organs of the frame;
And hence one Master Passion in the breast,
Like Aaron's serpent, swallows up the rest.
(Epistle II, ll. 123-32; cf. pp. 28-9 in ECCO-TCP ed.)
",2014-07-11 16:09:06 UTC,"""And hence one Master Passion in the breast, / Like Aaron's serpent, swallows up the rest.""",2003-11-04 00:00:00 UTC,Epistle II,Ruling Passion,,Animals,"•I've included twice: Government and Animals.
•Christopher Fox reads these lines as influencing Hume and quotes the following from the Treatise: ""a predominant passion swallows up an inferior, and converts it to it self."" See Fox, ""Defining Eighteenth-Century Psychology"" in Psychology and Literature in the Eighteenth Century (New York: AMS Press, 1987). p. 11.",HDIS (Poetry); confirmed in ECCO-TCP.,11880,4525
"With authors, Sationers obey'd the call,
The field of glory is a field for all;
Glory, and gain, th'industrious tribe provoke;
And gentle Dulness ever loves a joke.
A Poet's form she plac'd before their eyes,
And bad the nimblest racer seize the prize;
No meagre, muse-rid mope, adust and thin,
In a dun night-gown of his own loose skin,
But such a bulk as no twelve bards could raise,
Twelve starveling bards of these degen'rate days.
All as a partridge plump, full-fed, and fair,
She form'd this image of well-bodied air,
With pert flat eyes she window'd well its head,
A brain of feathers, and a heart of lead,
And empty words she gave, and sounding strain,
But senseless, lifeless! idol void and vain!
Never was dash'd out, at one lucky hit,
A fool, so just a copy of a wit;
So like, that critics said, and courtiers swore,
A Wit it was, and call'd the phantom More.",2016-03-11 17:42:56 UTC,"""She form'd this image of well-bodied air, / With pert flat eyes she window'd well its head, / A brain of feathers, and a heart of lead, / And empty words she gave, and sounding strain, / But senseless, lifeless! idol void and vain!""",2005-09-08 00:00:00 UTC,"","",2009-07-31,"",•I've included twice: Lead and Feathers.,"Searching in HDIS (Poetry). Found again reading. See also Sean Silver, The Mind is a Collection: Case Studies in Eighteenth-Century Thought (Philadelphia: Penn Press, 2015), 275n.",12040,4577
"""Forbear, the priest return'd, thy vain request,
""Nor call the truth from this unwilling breast:
""Tho' many godlike deeds our faith endear,
""The Christian story blasts th' expecting ear.
""The Godhead spoke--Let Meekness as a dove
""Brood in man's heart the sacred acts of Love.
""But mark the strange result--in hostile bands
""The Christians hurry to remoter lands,
""To Death consigning, deaf to Pity's claim,
""The realms unknowing of their founder's name.
""From these dire acts they rouz'd to new alarms,
""And on each other turn'd their reeking arms.
""The gen'ral Faith receiv'd Destruction's shock,
""And as a vessel dash'd against a rock,
""Was split into a thousand jarring creeds,
""Each breathing rage and sanguinary deeds.
""Then Persecution wak'd the Martyr's pile,
""And hail'd the sparkles with a greedy smile.""",2009-09-14 19:41:33 UTC,"""'Let Meekness as a dove / 'Brood in man's heart the sacred acts of Love.""",2006-02-22 00:00:00 UTC,"","",2009-07-31,"",•I've included twice: Dove and Brood,Searching in HDIS (Poetry),14659,5480
"Yon midnight bell, that frights the peaceful air!
Commands the Fathers to their wonted pray'r:
Now in long order flows the sable throng,
Like a dark, sullen stream that creeps along:
Why joins not Abelard the sainted train?
Does torpid sloth his ling'ring steps detain?
These walls, that pillow steep'd in tears, attest
That sleep is exil'd from this tortur'd breast:
This lamp proclaims the same, whose trembling beam
Guides while my hand pursues the glowing theme:
While the dread secret from my soul I tear,
And unreserv'd my bosom'd feelings bare.
Ah me! the passion that my soul misled
Was check'd, not conquer'd; buried, but not dead:
Now bursting from the grave, in evil hour,
It hastens to its prey with fiercer pow'r,
And, vulture-like, with appetite increas'd
It riots on the undiminish'd feast.
Daughter of Paraclete dost thou complain
In iron silence that I lock'd my pain?
That not to thee (soft solacer in woe)
I bad the troubled waves of Anguish flow?
Methought the course of three long years' retreat
Would scarce thy length'ning sacrifice complete:
Methought I should profane the hallow'd rite,
Did my laments thy pitying ear affright:
Thus at the altar, wrapt in holy dread,
The youth of Macedon in silence bled,
Nor from his tortur'd and consuming hand
Dismiss'd the living close-adhering brand[1].
But now thy slow inauguration's o'er,
And thou hast reach'd Religion's tranquil shore,
Now that stern habit throws without controul
Her chain of adamant around thy soul,
May not th' unhappy Abelard disclose
(To her who pities most) his train of woes?",2009-09-14 19:45:31 UTC,"""Ah me! the passion that my soul misled / Was check'd, not conquer'd; buried, but not dead: / Now bursting from the grave, in evil hour, / It hastens to its prey with fiercer pow'r, / And, vulture-like, with appetite increas'd / It riots on the undiminish'd feast.""",2005-02-14 00:00:00 UTC,"","",2009-07-31,"",•I've included twice: Resurrected Corpse and Vulture
•Rich passage,Searching in HDIS (Poetry),16045,6053
"First follow Nature, and your judgment frame
By her just standard, which is still the same:
Unerring Nature, still divinely bright,
One clear, unchang'd, and universal light,
Life, force, and beauty, must to all impart,
At once the source, and end, and test of art.
Art from that fund each just supply provides,
Works without show, and without pomp presides:
In some fair body thus th'informing soul
With spirits feeds, with vigour fills the whole,
Each motion guides, and ev'ry nerve sustains;
Itself unseen, but in th'effects, remains.
There are whom heav'n has blest with store of wit,
Yet want as much again to manage it;
For wit and judgment ever are at strife,
Tho' meant each other's aid, like man and wife.
'Tis more to guide, than spur the Muse's steed;
Restrain his fury, than provoke his speed;
The winged courser, like a gen'rous horse,
Shows most true mettle when you check his course.
(I, ll. 68-87)",2014-07-11 19:28:18 UTC,"""Tis more to guide, than spur the Muse's steed; / Restrain his fury, than provoke his speed; / The winged courser, like a gen'rous horse, / Shows most true mettle when you check his course.""",2009-01-28 00:00:00 UTC,Part I,"",,"","REVISIT. Built in simile: courser like horse. The ""winged courser"" is a metaphor for wit. INTEREST.","Reading; found again in Howard Erskine-Hill, Gulliver's Travels (Cambridge UP, 1993), 66.",17224,4151
"The Sickness not at first past cure,
By this Relapse despiseth Art:
Now, treacherous Boy, thou hast me sure,
Playing the Wanton with my Heart,
As foolish Children that a Bird have got,
Slacken the Thread, but not unty the knot.",2012-04-29 19:03:50 UTC,"""Now, treacherous Boy, thou hast me sure, / Playing the Wanton with my Heart, / As foolish Children that a Bird have got, / Slacken the Thread, but not unty the knot.""",2012-04-29 19:03:50 UTC,"","",,Beasts,"","Searching ""heart"" and ""bird"" in HDIS (Poetry)",19738,7240
"TOWNLOVE.
If want of consideration be a sign of madness, Will, thou hast been a little craz'd ever since I knew thee. But prethee, what han't I consider'd in this matter?
MERRY.
Living, Townlove, Living: thou hast not so much as consider'd what bus'ness thou was sent into the World about--Tis Living, Man.
TOWNLOVE.
Why, I know 'tis Living, and therefore I strive to Live as much of the time I have allow'd me as I can.
MERRY.
Thou Live, and yet speak against Drinking, the very thing that distinguishes the Life of Man from that of a Beast! Why, 'tis the onely Spur of Wit and Reason; I have heard more new thoughts in Drinking three hours, then the best Modern Play can furnish you with; Therefore if thou would'st Live, that is, truly enjoy thy self, Drink, I say, Drink.
(I, p. 2)",2012-07-02 13:49:09 UTC,"""Thou Live, and yet speak against Drinking, the very thing that distinguishes the Life of Man from that of a Beast! Why, 'tis the onely Spur of Wit and Reason; I have heard more new thoughts in Drinking three hours, then the best Modern Play can furnish you with; Therefore if thou would'st Live, that is, truly enjoy thy self, Drink, I say, Drink.""",2012-07-02 13:41:00 UTC,Act I,"",,Beasts,"Ironic? Drink differentiates man and beast, but is also a spur?","Searching ""reason"" and ""beast"" in HDIS (Drama)",19832,7278
"That Statesmen have the Worm, is seen
By all their winding Play;
Their Conscience is a Worm within,
That gnaws them Night and Day.
Ah Moore! they Skill were well employ'd,
And greater Gain would rise,
Could'st thou but make the Courtier void
The Worm that never dies!
O learned Friend of Abchurch-Lane,
Who sett'st our Entrails free!
Vain is thy Art, thy Powder vain,
Since Worms shall eat ev'n thee.
(ll. 25-36, pp. 298-9 in Butt's edition)
",2013-11-11 15:04:55 UTC,"""Their Conscience is a Worm within, / That gnaws them Night and Day.""",2013-11-11 15:04:20 UTC,"","",,Animals,"","Reading; found again reading Craftsman, No. 39.",23174,7761
"Hereunto adde thoughtes, and words: if one speake and thinke much of beautie, vaine attire, glory, honour, reputation; if he feele in his heart, that often he desireth to be praised, or to insinuate his owne praise, it is most manifest, that the Passion of Pride pricketh him; and so I meane of all other Affections, because the minde doth thinke, and the tongue will speake according to the Passions of the heart: for, as the Ratte running behinde a paynted cloth, betrayeth her selfe; even so, a Passion lurking in the heart, by thoughts and speech discovereth it selfe, according to the common Proverbe, [end page 78] ex abundantia cordis os loquitur, from the aboundance of heart, the tongue speaketh: for as a River abounding with water, must make an inundation, and runne over the bankes; even so, when the heart is overflowen with affections, it must find some passage by the mouth, minde, or actions. And for this cause, I have divers times heard some persons very passionate affirme, that they thought their hearts would have broken, if they had not vented them in some sort, either with spitefull words, or revenging deeds: and that they could do no otherwise than their Passions inforced them.
(pp. 78-9)",2022-04-26 21:26:45 UTC,"""For, as the Ratte running behinde a paynted cloth, betrayeth her selfe; even so, a Passion lurking in the heart, by thoughts and speech discovereth it selfe, according to the common Proverbe, ex abundantia cordis os loquitur, from the aboundance of heart, the tongue speaketh: for as a River abounding with water, must make an inundation, and runne over the bankes; even so, when the heart is overflowen with affections, it must find some passage by the mouth, minde, or actions.""",2022-04-26 21:26:45 UTC,"","",,"","",Reading,25306,8354