work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context
3863,"",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2006-02-22 00:00:00 UTC," Th' ambitious, who to place aspire,
When rais'd to that they did pretend,
Are restless still, would still be higher;
For that's a Passion has no end.
'Tis the minds Wolf, a strange Disease,
That ev'n Saciety can't appease,
An Appetite of such a kind,
As does by feeding still increase,
And is to eat, the more it eats, inclin'd.
As the Ambitious mount the Sky,
New prospects still allure the Eye,
Which makes them upwards still to fly;
Till from the utmost height of all,
Fainting in their Endeavour, down they fall,
And lower, than at first they were, at last do lye.",,9915,•I've included twice: Wolf and Disease.,"The passion ambition ""'Tis the minds Wolf, a strange Disease, / That ev'n Saciety can't appease""","",2009-09-14 19:34:34 UTC,""
4712,"",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2006-12-18 00:00:00 UTC,"Search each his own Breast first, read that with Care,
And mark if no one Crime be written There!
For Thou who, faulty, wrong'st another's Fame,
Howe'er so great and dignify'd thy Name,
The Muse shall drag thee forth to publick Shame;
Pluck the fair Feathers from thy Swan-skin Heart,
And shew thee black and guileful as thou art.",2009-07-31,12430,"•Fascinating: INTEREST, USE in ENTRY. A swan-skin heart is feathered white, balck beneath, I take it.
•I've included twice: Swan and Skin","""For Thou who, faulty, wrong'st another's Fame, / Howe'er so great and dignify'd thy Name, / The Muse shall drag thee forth to publick Shame; / Pluck the fair Feathers from thy Swan-skin Heart, / And shew thee black and guileful as thou art.""","",2009-09-14 19:36:58 UTC,""
5175,"",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2006-07-21 00:00:00 UTC,"This glorious system form'd for man
To practise when and how he can,
If the five senses in alliance
To Reason hurl a proud defiance,
And, though oft conquer'd, yet unbroke,
Endeavour to throw off that yoke
Which they a greater slavery hold
Than Jewish bondage was of old;
Or if they, something touch'd with shame,
Allow him to retain the name
Of Royalty, and, as in sport,
To hold a mimic formal court,
Permitted (no uncommon thing)
To be a kind of puppet-king,
And suffer'd, by the way of toy,
To hold a globe, but not employ;
Our system-mongers, struck with fear,
Prognosticate destruction near;
All things to anarchy must run;
The little world of man's undone.
(p. 157, ll. 161-80)",,13921,"•I've included four times: Conquest, Yoke, Slavery, Bondage","""[T]he five senses in alliance [may] / To Reason hurl a proud defiance, / And, though oft conquer'd, yet unbroke, / Endeavour to throw off that yoke / Which they a greater slavery hold / Than Jewish bondage was of old""","",2009-09-14 19:39:30 UTC,Book IV
7289,"","Searching ""dog"" and ""brain"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2012-07-03 18:56:04 UTC,"Dear Knight, how great a Drudge is he
Who wou'd excel in Poetry?
And yet how few have learnt the Art,
To inform the Head, or touch the Heart?
Some, with a dry and barren Brain,
Poor Rogues! like costive Lap-Dogs strain;
While others with a Flux of Wit,
The Reader and their Friends besh**t.
Wou'd you (Sir Knight) my Judgment know?
He still writes worst who writes so so.
In this the mighty Secret lies,
To Elevate, and to Surprize:
Thus far my Pen at random run,
The Fire was out, the Clock struck One.",,19851,"","""Some, with a dry and barren Brain, / Poor Rogues! like costive Lap-Dogs strain; / While others with a Flux of Wit, / The Reader and their Friends besh**t.""",Beasts,2012-07-03 18:56:04 UTC,""
7399,"",Reading,2013-06-05 19:54:37 UTC,"And why? Because he thinks himself immortal.
All men think all men mortal but themselves;
Themselves, when some alarming shock of Fate
Strikes through their wounded hearts the sudden dread.
But their hearts wounded, like the wounded air,
Soon close; where pass'd the shaft, no trace is found.
As from the wing no scar the sky retains,
The parted wave no furrow from the keel,
So dies in human hearts the thought of death.
E'en with the tender tear which Nature sheds
O'er those we love, we drop it in their grave.
Can I forget Philander? That were strange.
O my full heart!--But should I give it vent,
The longest night, though longer far, would fail,
And the lark listen to my midnight song.
(ll. 423-437, pp. 47-8 in CUP edition)",,20396,"","""But their hearts wounded, like the wounded air, / Soon close; where pass'd the shaft, no trace is found. / As from the wing no scar the sky retains, / The parted wave no furrow from the keel, / So dies in human hearts the thought of death.""",Animals,2013-06-11 14:45:55 UTC,Night the First
7411,"",Reading,2013-06-12 19:20:01 UTC,"If so, what words are dark enough to draw
Thy picture true? The darkest are too fair.
Beneath what baleful planet, in what hour
Of desperation, by what Fury's aid,
In what infernal posture of the soul,
All hell invited, and all hell in joy
At such a birth, a birth so near of kin,
Did thy foul fancy whelp so black a scheme
Of hopes abortive, faculties half-blown,
And deities begun, reduced to dust?
(ll. 894-903, pp. 201-2 in CUP edition)",,20580,"","""Beneath what baleful planet, in what hour / Of desperation, by what Fury's aid, / In what infernal posture of the soul, / All hell invited, and all hell in joy / At such a birth, a birth so near of kin, / Did thy foul fancy whelp so black a scheme / Of hopes abortive, faculties half-blown, / And deities begun, reduced to dust?""",Animals,2013-06-12 19:20:01 UTC,Night the Seventh
5404,"",Reading; text from ECCO-TCP.,2014-03-08 17:30:32 UTC,"But if thou com'st with frown austere
To nurse the brood of care and fear;
To bid our sweetest passions die,
And leave us in their room a sigh;
Or if thine aspect stern have power
To wither each poor transient flower,
That cheers the pilgrimage of woe,
And dry the springs whence hope should flow;
WISDOM, thine empire I disclaim,
Thou empty boast of pompous name!
In gloomy shade of cloisters dwell,
But never haunt my chearful cell.
Hail to pleasure's frolic train;
Hail to fancy's golden reign;
Festive mirth, and laughter wild,
Free and sportful as the child;
Hope with eager sparkling eyes,
And easy faith, and fond surprise:
Let these, in fairy colours drest,
Forever share my careless breast;
Then, tho' wise I may not be,
The wise themselves shall envy me.
(pp. 57-8)",,23517,"","""But if thou com'st with frown austere / To nurse the brood of care and fear; / To bid our sweetest passions die, / And leave us in their room a sigh; / Or if thine aspect stern have power / To wither each poor transient flower, / That cheers the pilgrimage of woe, / And dry the springs whence hope should flow; / WISDOM, thine empire I disclaim, / Thou empty boast of pompous name!""",Animals and Empire,2014-03-08 17:30:32 UTC,""