text,updated_at,metaphor,created_at,context,theme,reviewed_on,dictionary,comments,provenance,id,work_id
"One moment now may give us more
Than fifty years of reason;
Our minds shall drink at every pore
The spirit of the season.
Some silent laws our hearts may make,
Which they shall long obey;
We for the year to come may take
Our temper from to-day.
And from the blessed power that rolls
About, below, above;
We'll frame the measure of our souls,
They shall be tuned to love.",2009-09-14 19:44:23 UTC,"""Our minds shall drink at every pore / The spirit of the season""",2006-09-29 00:00:00 UTC,"","",,"","","Searching ""mind"" in HDIS (Poetry)",15696,5920
"""Nor less I deem that there are powers,
""Which of themselves our minds impress,
""That we can feed this mind of ours,
""In a wise passiveness.",2009-09-14 19:44:24 UTC,"""'That we can feed this mind of ours, / 'In a wise passiveness.""",2006-09-29 00:00:00 UTC,"",Stream of Consciousness,,"","","Searching ""mind"" in HDIS (Poetry)",15701,5923
"I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay
In such a jocund company:
I gazed--and gazed--but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
(p. 345)",2009-09-14 19:46:34 UTC,"""For oft when on my couch I lie / In vacant or in pensive mood, / They [the daffodils] flash upon that inward eye / which is the bliss of solitude.""",2005-09-06 00:00:00 UTC,I've included the entire poem,Mind's Eye,2008-05-27,Eye,"See also Coleridge's Biographia Literaria, Chapter XXII, p. 598 in Perkins.","Reading Stephen Toulmin's ""The Inwardness of Mental Life"" in Critical Inquiry 6:1 (Autumn, 1979). p. 4. Text from Perkins.",16341,6172
"'On Man, on Nature, and on Human Life,
Musing in solitude, I oft perceive
Fair trains of imagery before me rise,
Accompanied by feelings of delight
Pure, or with no unpleasing sadness mixed;
And I am conscious of affecting thoughts
And dear remembrances, whose presence soothes
Or elevates the Mind, intent to weigh
The good and evil of our mortal state.
--To these emotions, whencesoe'er they come,
Whether from breath of outward circumstance,
Or from the Soul--an impulse to herself--
I would give utterance in numerous verse.
Of Truth, of Grandeur, Beauty, Love, and Hope,
And melancholy Fear subdued by Faith;
Of blessed consolations in distress;
Of moral strength, and intellectual Power;
Of joy in widest commonalty spread;
Of the individual Mind that keeps her own
Inviolate retirement, subject there
To Conscience only, and the law supreme
Of that Intelligence which governs all--
I sing:--'fit audience let me find though few!'
(pp. 5-6, ll. 15-37)",2013-08-24 20:55:52 UTC,"""To these emotions, whencesoe'er they come, / Whether from breath of outward circumstance, / Or from the Soul--an impulse to herself-- / I would give utterance in numerous verse.""",2013-08-24 20:55:52 UTC,Prospectus,"",,"","",Reading,22558,7650
"Words are too awful an instrument for good and evil to be trifled with: they hold above all other external powers a dominion over thoughts. If words be not (recurring to a metaphor before used) an incarnation of the thought but only a clothing for it, then surely will they prove an ill gift; such a one as those poisoned vestments, read of in the stories of superstitious times, which had power to consume and to alienate from his right mind the victim who put them on. Language, if it do not uphold, and feed, and leave in quiet, like the power of gravitation or the air we breathe, is a counter-spirit, unremittingly and noiselessly at work to derange, to subvert, to lay waste, to vitiate, and to dissolve.
(pp.84-85)",2013-08-24 21:09:47 UTC,"""If words be not (recurring to a metaphor before used) an incarnation of the thought but only a clothing for it, then surely will they prove an ill gift; such a one as those poisoned vestments, read of in the stories of superstitious times, which had power to consume and to alienate from his right mind the victim who put them on.""",2013-08-24 21:09:47 UTC,III,"",,"","",Reading,22563,7651