work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context
6093,"","Searching ""fancy"" and ""crowd"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2006-03-08 00:00:00 UTC,"But not with night's approach the shepherd's toils
Are ended; through the deep and dreary glooms,
Without one guiding star, he struggling wades
The rising wreath; till, quite o'erspent, compelled
To leave his flock to time and chance, he turns
Homeward his weary and uncertain steps,
Much doubting of his way, foreboding much.
In vain he tries to find his wonted marks,--
The hill-side fountain, with its little plat
Of verdant sward around; the well-known cairn;
The blasted branchless oak; the ancient stone
Where murdered martyrs fell, and where they lie:
In vain he lists to hear the rushing stream,
Whose winding course would lead him to his home.
O'ercome at last, yielding to treacherous rest,
He sits him down, and folds within his plaid,
In fond embrace, the sharer of his toils,
The partner of his children's infant sports.
His children! thought of them wakes new resolves
To make one last despairing effort more.
Meanwhile they, crouching round the blazing hearth,
Oft ask their mother when he will return.
She on her rocking infant looks the while,
Or, starting, thinks she hears the lifted latch;
And oft the drift comes sweeping o'er the floor,
While anxiously she looks into the storm,
Returning soon to stir the dying brands,
That with their blaze her sinking hopes revive:
Alas, her hopes are transient as that blaze,
And direful images her fancy crowd,--
The dog returning masterless; the search
By friends and kinsmen wandering far o'er moss
And moor; the sad success,--his body found
Half buried in a wreath; the opening door
To let the bearers in! ... The door is opened:
Shook from poor Yarrow's fur, a sleety mist
Is scattered round, and in his master steps.
What joy! what silent tearful joy pervades
The late despairing groupe! Round him they cling;
One doffs his stiffened plaid, and one his shoes;
Kneeling, one chafes his hands and feet benumbed:
The sleeping babe is roused to kiss its sire,
Restored past hope; and supper, long forgot,
Crowns the glad board: Nor is their evening prayer
This night omitted; fervent, full of thanks,
From glowing hearts in artless phrase it flows!
Then, simply chaunted by the parent pair,
And by the lisping choir, the song of praise,
Beneath the heath-roofed cottage in the wild,
Ascends more grateful to the heavenly throne,
Than pealing diapason, and the loud
Swelling acclaim of notes by art attuned.",,16120,"","""Alas, her hopes are transient as that blaze, / And direful images her fancy crowd""",Inhabitants,2009-09-14 19:45:48 UTC,""
6192,"",HDIS,2003-09-19 00:00:00 UTC,"How many bards gild the lapses of time!
A few of them have ever been the food
Of my delighted fancy,--I could brood
Over their beauties, earthly, or sublime:
And often, when I sit me down to rhyme,
These will in throngs before my mind intrude:
But no confusion, no disturbance rude
Do they occasion; 'tis a pleasing chime.
So the unnumber'd sounds that evening store;
The songs of birds--the whisp'ring of the leaves--
The voice of waters--the great bell that heaves
With solemn sound,--and thousand others more,
That distance of recognizance bereaves,
Make pleasing music, and not wild uproar.
(ll. 1-14, p. 33-4)
",,16370,•Ive included the entire poem
•See also fancy' food. The fancy must then eat?
,"""These will in throngs before my mind intrude.""",Inhabitants,2009-09-14 19:46:40 UTC,""
6207,"",HDIS,2003-09-22 00:00:00 UTC,"Well then, I see there is no little bird,
Tender soever, but is Jove's own care.
Long have I sought for rest, and, unaware,
Behold I find it! so exalted too!
So after my own heart! I knew, I knew
There was a place untenanted in it:
In that same void white Chastity shall sit,
And monitor me nightly to lone slumber.
With sanest lips I vow me to the number
Of Dian's sisterhood; and, kind lady,
With thy good help, this very night shall see
My future days to her fane consecrate.""
",,16437,•I've included twice: Container and Tenant,"""I knew, I knew / There was a place untenanted in it: / In that same void white Chastity shall sit, / And monitor me nightly to lone slumber""","",2009-09-14 19:46:52 UTC,""
6757,"",Reading John Berryman's Dream Songs,2010-09-26 20:27:04 UTC,"... I am glad you take any pleasure in my poor Poem; -- which I would willingly take the trouble to unwrite, if possible, did I care so much as I have done about Reputation. I received a copy of the Cenci, as from yourself from Hunt. There is only one part of it I am judge of; the Poetry, and dramatic effect, which by many spirits now a days is considered the mammon. A modern work it is said must have a purpose, which may be the God--an artist must serve Mammon--he must have ""self concentration"" selfishness perhaps. You I am sure will forgive me for sincerely remarking that you might curb your magnanimity and be more of an artist, and ""load every rift"" of your subject with ore. The thought of such discipline must fall like cold chains upon you, who perhaps never sat with your wings furl'd for six Months together. And is not this extraordina[r]y talk for the writer of Endymion? whose mind was like a pack of scattered cards--I am pick'd up and sorted to a pip. My Imagination is a Monastery and I am its Monk--you must explain my metapcs to yourself. I am in expectation of Prometheus every day. Could I have my own wish for its interest effected you would have it still in manuscript--or be but now putting an end to the second act. I remember you advising me not to publish my first-blights, on Hampstead heath--I am returning advice upon your hands. Most of the Poems in the volume I send you have been written above two years, and would never have been publish'd but from a hope of gain; so you see I am inclined to take your advice now. I must exp[r]ess once more my deep sense of your kindness, adding my sincere thanks and respects for Mrs. Shelley.
(pp. 389-90)
",,17988,"","""My Imagination is a Monastery and I am its Monk--you must explain my metapcs to yourself.""","",2010-09-26 20:27:04 UTC,""