id,comments,provenance,dictionary,created_at,reviewed_on,work_id,theme,context,updated_at,metaphor,text
9408,•Published in Flamma Sine Fumo (1662),HDIS (Poetry),"",2004-03-11 00:00:00 UTC,2011-05-23,3621,Soliloquy,I've included the whole poem,2011-05-23 17:15:34 UTC,"""Flowers, rivers, woods, the pleasant air and wind, / With Sacred thoughts, do feed my serious mind.""","The Poets Soliloquy
Why do I droop, like flowers opprest with rain?
What cloud of sorrow doth my colour stain?
I like a Sparrow on the house alone
Do sit, and like a Dove I mourn and groan:
Doth discontent, or sad affliction bind,
And stop the freedom of my Nobler mind?
No, no, I know the cause; I do retire,
To quench old flames, and kindle better fire:
It is my comfort to escape the rude
And sluttish trouble of the multitude:
Flowers, rivers, woods, the pleasant air and wind,
With Sacred thoughts, do feed my serious mind:
My active soul doth not consume with rust,
I have been rub'd, and now are free from dust.
Let moderation rule my pensive way;
Students may leave their books, and sometimes play"
9668,"",HDIS,Eye,2004-09-01 00:00:00 UTC,,3745,"","",2009-09-14 19:34:23 UTC,"""When will our reason's long-charmed eyes unclose, / And Israel judge between her friends and foes?""","""Then Justice wake, and Rigour take her time,
For lo! our mercy is become our crime.
While halting punishment her stroke delays,
Our sovereign right, heaven's sacred trust, decays;
For whose support even subjects' interest calls,
Woe to that kingdom where the monarch falls!
That prince, who yields the least of regal sway,
So far his people's freedom does betray.
Right lives by law, and law subsists by power;
Disarm the shepherd, wolves the flock devour.
Hard lot of empire o'er a stubborn race,
Which heaven itself in vain has tried with grace!
When will our reason's long-charmed eyes unclose,
And Israel judge between her friends and foes?
When shall we see expired deceivers' sway,
And credit what our God and monarchs say?
Dissembled patriots, bribed with Egypt's gold,
Even sanhedrims in blind obedience hold;
Those patriots' falsehood in their actions see,
And judge by the pernicious fruit the tree;
If aught for which so loudly they declaim,
Religion, laws, and freedom, were their aim,
Our senates in due methods they had led,
To avoid those mischiefs which they seem'd to dread;
But first, e'er yet they propped the sinking state,
To impeach and charge, as urged by private hate,
Proves that they ne'er believed the fears they prest,
But barbarously destroyed the nation's rest.
O whither will ungoverned senates drive?
And to what bounds licentious votes arrive?
When their injustice we are pressed to share,
The monarch urged to exclude the lawful heir.
Are princes thus distinguished from the crowd,
And this the privilege of royal blood?
But grant we should confirm the wrongs they press,
His sufferings yet were than the people's less;
Condemned for life the murdering sword to wield,
And on their heirs entail a bloody field.
Thus madly their own freedom they betray,
And for the oppression which they fear make way;
Succession fixed by heaven, the kingdom's bar,
Which, once dissolved, admits the flood of war;
Waste, rapine, spoil, without the assault begin,
And our mad tribes supplant the fence within.
Since, then, their good they will not understand,
'Tis time to take the monarch's power in hand;
Authority and force to join with skill,
And save the lunatics against their will.
The same rough means that 'suage the crowd, appease
Our senates, raging with the crowd's disease.
Henceforth unbiassed measures let them draw
From no false gloss, but genuine text of law;
Nor urge those crimes upon religion's score,
Themselves so much in Jebusites abhor;
Whom laws convict, and only they, shall bleed,
Nor Pharisees by Pharisees be freed.
Impartial justice from our throne shall shower,
All shall have right, and we our sovereign power."""
9721,"",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),Fetters,2005-06-07 00:00:00 UTC,,3768,"",Listed under Minor Burlesques and Travesties,2009-09-14 19:34:26 UTC,"""Pythagoras saw Hesiod's Soul ty'd / To Brass-Pillars, wept and cry'd;""","Physian Fields are aloft in the Moon,
The Sophister was up too soon.
Pythagoras saw Hesiod's Soul ty'd
To Brass-Pillars, wept and cry'd;
For fear like a new married Bride,
That had nothing to lose, beside
Her Maiden-head, which she could not hide.
And truly never was deny'd;
The Maid was willing, when she try'd;"
9853,"",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),"",2005-11-21 00:00:00 UTC,,3826,"","",2009-09-14 19:34:31 UTC,"""Our souls are all disrob'd, all naked laid, / In thy true Mirror men themselves do see""","Fair handmaid to Devotion, by whose aid,
Our souls are all disrob'd, all naked laid,
In thy true Mirror men themselves do see
Just what they are, not what they seem to be.
The flattering World misrepresents our face,
And cheats us with a Magnifying-Glass,
Our meanness nothing else does truly show,
But only Death, but only Thou,
Who teach our minds above this Earth to fly,
And pant, and breath for Immortality."
9862,•REVISIT. Does this belong in the database?,Reading,"",2004-06-10 00:00:00 UTC,,3829,Inner and Outer,"",2009-09-14 19:34:32 UTC,"Man's mind like his ""outward form"" charmed the eyes of the ""wondering herd""","One portion of informing fire was given
To brutes, the inferior family of heaven.
The smith divine, as with a careless beat,
Struck out the mute creation at a heat;
But, when arrived at last to human race,
The Godhead took a deep considering space;
And, to distinguish man from all the rest,
Unlocked the sacred treasures of his breast;
And mercy mixt with reason did impart,
One to his head, the other to his heart;
Reason to rule, but mercy to forgive;
The first is law, the last prerogative.
And like his mind his outward form appeared,
When, issuing naked to the wondering herd,
He charmed their eyes; and, for they loved, they feared.
Not armed with horns of arbitrary might,
Or claws to seize their furry spoils in fight,
Or with increase of feet to o'ertake them in their flight;
Of easy shape, and pliant every way,
Confessing still the softness of his clay,
And kind as kings upon their coronation day;
With open hands, and with extended space
Of arms, to satisfy a large embrace.
Thus kneaded up with milk, the new-made man
His kingdom o'er his kindred world began;
Till knowledge misapplied, misunderstood,
And pride of empire, soured his balmy blood.
Then, first rebelling, his own stamp he coins;
The murderer Cain was latent in his loins;
And blood began its first and loudest cry,
For differing worship of the Deity.
Thus persecution rose, and farther space
Produced the mighty hunter of his race.
Not so the blessed Pan his flock increased,
Content to fold them from the famished beast:
Mild were his laws; the sheep and harmless hind
Were never of the persecuting kind.
Such pity now the pious pastor shows,
Such mercy from the British Lion flows,
That both provide protection from their foes.
"
9915,•I've included twice: Wolf and Disease.,Searching in HDIS (Poetry),"",2006-02-22 00:00:00 UTC,,3863,"","",2009-09-14 19:34:34 UTC,"The passion ambition ""'Tis the minds Wolf, a strange Disease, / That ev'n Saciety can't appease"""," 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."
21649,"",Browsing in EEBO,"",2013-07-11 15:06:24 UTC,,7535,"","",2013-07-11 15:06:24 UTC,"""I grant this true: But, still, the deadly wound / Is in thy Soul: 'Tis there thou art not sound.""","I grant this true: But, still, the deadly wound
Is in thy Soul: 'Tis there thou art not sound:
Say, when thou seest a heap of tempting Gold,
Or a more tempting Harlot do'st behold;
Then, when she casts on thee a sidelong glance,
Then try thy Heart; and tell me if it Dance.
(p. 41, ll. 220-5)"
21651,"",Browsing in EEBO,"",2013-07-11 15:09:47 UTC,,7537,"","",2013-07-11 15:09:47 UTC,"""Knock on my Heart; for thou hast skill to find / If it sound solid, or be fill'd with Wind; / And, thro the veil of words, thou view'st the naked Mind.""","PERSIUS.
Tis not, indeed, my Talent to engage
In lofty Trifles, or to swell my Page
With Wind and Noise; but freely to impart,
As to a Friend, the Secrets of my heart:
And, in familiar Speech, to let thee know
How much I love thee; and how much I owe.
Knock on my Heart; for thou hast skill to find
If it sound solid, or be fill'd with Wind;
And, thro the veil of words, thou view'st the naked Mind.
For this a hundred Voices I desire;
To tell thee what an hundred Tongues wou'd tire;
Yet never cou'd be worthily exprest,
How deeply thou art seated in my Breast.
(p. 61, ll. 27-39)"
24796,"",Reading,"",2016-01-13 17:39:52 UTC,,8122,"","",2016-01-13 17:39:52 UTC,"""Th' illiterate Writer, Emperique like, applies / To minds diseas'd, unsafe, chance Remedies.""","WHat Greece, when Learning flourish'd, onely Knew,
(Athenian Judges,) you this day Renew.
Here too are Annual Rites to Pallas done,
And here Poetique prizes lost or won.
Methinks I see you, Crown'd with Olives sit,
And strike a sacred Horrour from the Pit.
A Day of Doom is this of your Decree,
Where even the Best are but by Mercy free:
A Day which none but Iohnson durst have wish'd to see.
Here they who long have known the usefull Stage,
Come to be taught themselves to teach the Age.
As your Commissioners our Poets goe,
To Cultivate the Virtue which you sow:
In your Lycaeum, first themselves refind,
And Delegated thence to Humane kind.
But as Embassadours, when long from home,
For new Instructions to their Princes come;
So Poets who your Precepts have forgot,
Return, and beg they may be better taught:
Follies and Faults elsewhere by them are shown,
But by your Manners they Correct their Own.
Th' illiterate Writer, Emperique like, applies
To minds diseas'd, unsafe, chance Remedies:
The Learn'd in Schools, where Knowledge first began,
Studies with Care th' Anatomy of Man;
Sees Vertue, Vice, and Passions in their Cause,
And Fame from Science, not from Fortune draws.
So Poetry, which is in Oxford made
An Art, in London onely is a Trade.
There Haughty Dunces whose unlearned Pen
Could ne'er Spell Grammar, would be reading Men.
Such build their Poems the Lucretian way,
So many Huddled Atoms make a Play,
And if they hit in Order by some Chance,
They call that Nature, which is Ignorance.
To such a Fame let mere Town-Wits aspire,
And their Gay Nonsense their own Citts admire.
Our Poet, could he find Forgiveness here
Would wish it rather than a Plaudit there.
He owns no Crown from those Praetorian bands,
But knows that Right is in this Senates hands.
Not Impudent enough to hope your Praise,
Low at the Muses feet, his Wreath he lays,
And where he took it up Resigns his Bays.
Kings make their Poets whom themselves think fit,
But 'tis your Suffrage makes Authentique Wit.
(pp. 263-5)"