work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context
3721,"",Searching in HDIS (Drama),2005-09-07 00:00:00 UTC,"TRUR.
Into his studious Closet to stuff his Lunatick head, since he can get nothing for his belly.",2009-01-20,9615,"","""Into his studious Closet to stuff his Lunatick head, since he can get nothing for his belly.""","",2013-06-10 18:17:00 UTC,Act I
3745,"",HDIS,2004-09-01 00:00:00 UTC,"""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.""",,9668,"","""When will our reason's long-charmed eyes unclose, / And Israel judge between her friends and foes?""",Eye,2009-09-14 19:34:23 UTC,""
3768,"",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2005-06-07 00:00:00 UTC,"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;",,9721,"","""Pythagoras saw Hesiod's Soul ty'd / To Brass-Pillars, wept and cry'd;""",Fetters,2009-09-14 19:34:26 UTC,Listed under Minor Burlesques and Travesties
3826,"",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2005-11-21 00:00:00 UTC,"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.",,9853,"","""Our souls are all disrob'd, all naked laid, / In thy true Mirror men themselves do see""","",2009-09-14 19:34:31 UTC,""
3829,Inner and Outer,Reading,2004-06-10 00:00:00 UTC,"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.
",,9862,•REVISIT. Does this belong in the database?,"Man's mind like his ""outward form"" charmed the eyes of the ""wondering herd""","",2009-09-14 19:34:32 UTC,""
3861,"",Reading. Text from EEBO.,2005-10-09 00:00:00 UTC,"When she had rag'd and struggled with this unruly Passion, 'till she was quite tir'd and breathless, finding all her forcein vain, she fill'd her fancy with a thousand charming Idea's of the lovely Henanlt, and, in that soft fit, had a mind to satisfy her panting Heart, and give it one Joy more, by beholding the Lord of its Desires, and the Author of its Pains: Pleas'd, yet trembling, at this resolve, she rose from the Bed where she was laid, and softly advanc'd to the Stair-Case, from whence there open'd that Room where, Dame Katteriena was, and where there was a private Grate, at which, she was entertaining her Brother; they were earnest in Discourse, and so loud, that Isabella could easrly hear all they said, and the first words were from Katteriena, who, in a sort of Anger, cry'd, Vrge me no more? My Virtue is too [Page 49 ]nite, to become an Advocate for a Passion, that can tend to nothing but your Ruin, for, suppose I should tell the fair Ifabella, you dye for her, what can it wait you? What hope can any Man heue, to move the Heart of a Virgin, so averse to Love? A Virgin, whose Modesty, and Virtue is so very curious, it would fly the very word, Love, as some monstrous Witchcraft, or the foolest of Sins, who would loath me for bringing so lewd a Message, and banish for her Sight, as the Object of her Hose and Scorn; is it unknown to (gap: 1 letter) ou, how many of the noblest Youths of Flanders have address'd themselves to her in vain, when yet she was in the World? Have you been ignorant, how the young Count De Villenoys languish'd, in vain, almost to Death for her? And, that no Persuasions, no Attractions in him, no worldly Advantages, or all his Pleadings, who had a Wit and Spirit capable of prevailing [Page 50] on any Heart, less severe and barsh, than hers? Do you not know, that all was lost on this insensible fair one, even when she was a proper Object for the Adoration of the Young and Amorous? And can you hope, now she has so (gap: 1 word) wedded her future days to Devotion, and given all to Heaven; nay, lives a Life here more like a Saint, than a Woman; rather an Angel, than a mortal Creature? Do you imagin, with any Rhetorick you can deliver, now to turn the Heart, and whole Nature, of this Divine Maid, to consider your Earthly Passion? No, 'its fondness, and an injury to her Virtue, to harbour such a Thought; quit it, quit it, my dear Brother! before it ruin your Repose. Ah, Sister! (reply'd the dejected Henault) your Counsel comes too late, and your Reasons are of too feeble force, to rebate those Arrows, the Charming Isabella's Eyes have fix'd in my Heart and [Page 51] Soul, and I am undone, unless she know my Pain, which I shall dye, before I shall ever dare mention to her; but you, young Maids, have a thousand Familiarities together, can jest, and play, and say a thousand things between Railery and Earnest, that may first hint what you would deliver, and insinuate into each others Hearts a kind of Curiosity to know more; for naturally, (my dear Sister) Maids, are curious and vain; and however Divine the Mind of the fair Isabella may be, it bears the Tincture still of Mortal Woman.
(pp. 48-51)",,9913,"•See also Aphra Behn. Oroonoko and other Writings. Ed. Paul Salzman. Oxford: OUP, 1994.
","""Ah, Sister! (reply'd the dejected Henault) your Counsel comes too late, and your Reasons are of too feeble force, to rebate those Arrows, the Charming Isabella's Eyes have fix'd in my Heart and Soul""","",2009-09-14 19:34:34 UTC,""
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,""
7097,"","Searching ""mind"" in Google Books",2011-09-20 16:04:02 UTC,"We have been Discoursing all this while, how far a Wicked Man may be Oblig'd, and the Stoicks tell us, at last, that he cannot be Oblig'd at all: For, they make him incapable of any Good, and consequently of any Benefit. But, he has this advantage, that if he cannot be Oblig'd, he cannot be Ungrateful: For, if he cannot receive, he is not bound to return. On the other side, a Good Man, and an Ungrateful, are a Contradiction: So that at this rate there's no such thing as Ingratitude in Nature. They compare a Wicked Man's Mind to a Vitiated Stomach; he corrupts whatever he receives, and the best Nourishment turns to the Disease. But, taking this for granted, a Wicked Man may yet be so far Oblig'd, as to pass for Ungrateful, if he does not Requite what be Receives. For, though it be not a perfect Benefit, yet he receives something like it. There are Goods of the Mind, the Body, and of Fortune. Of the first sort, Fools, and Wicked Men, are wholly incapable; to the rest they may be admitted. But why should I call any Man Ungrateful, you'll say, for not Restoring That which I deny to be a Benefit? I answer, That if the Receiver take it for a Benefit, and fails of a Return, 'tis Ingratitude in him; for, that which goes for an Obligation among Wicked Men, is an Obligation upon them: and, they may pay one another in their own Coin; the Mony is Current, whether it be Gold, or Leather, when it comes once to be Authoriz'd. Nay, Cleanthes carries it farther; He that is wanting, says he, to a kind Office, though it be no Benefit, would have done the fame thing if it had been one; and is as guilty, as a Thief is, that has set his Booty; and is already Arm'd, and Mounted, with a purpose to seize it, though he has not yet drawn Blood. Wickedness is form'd in the Heart; and, the matter of Fact is only the Discovery, and the Execution of it. Now, tho' a wicked Man cannot either Receive, or Bestow a Benefit, because he wants the Will of doing Good, and for that he is no longer Wicked, when Virtue has taken Possession of him; yet we commonly call it one, as we call a Man illiterate that is not Learned, and Naked, that is not well Clad; not but that the one can Read, and the other is Cover'd.
(pp. 59-60)",,19188,"","""They compare a Wicked Man's Mind to a Vitiated Stomach; he corrupts whatever he receives, and the best Nourishment turns to the Disease. But, taking this for granted, a Wicked Man may yet be so far Oblig'd, as to pass for Ungrateful, if he does not Requite what be Receives.""","",2011-09-20 16:04:02 UTC,"Of Benefits, Chapter XIV"
7097,"","Searching ""mind"" in Google Books",2011-09-20 16:27:19 UTC,"There is not so Disproportionate a Mixture in any Creature, as that is in Man, of Soul and Body. There is Intemperance, join'd with Divinity; Folly, with Severity; Sloth, with Activity; and Uncleanness, with Purity. But, a Good Sword is never the worse for an ill Scabbard. We are mov'd more by Imaginary Fears, than Truths; for Truth has a Certainty, and Foundation; but, in the other, we are expos'd to the Licence, and Conjecture of a distracted Mind; and our Enemies, are not more Imperious, than our Pleasures. We set our Hearts upon Transitory Things; as if they Themselves were Everlasting; or We, on the other side, to possess them for Ever. Why do we not rather advance our Thoughts to things that are Eternal, and contemplate the Heavenly Original of all Beings? Why do we not, by the Divinity of Reason, triumph over the Weaknesses of Flesh, and Blood? It is by Providence that the World is preserv'd; and not from any Virtue in the Matter of it; for the World is as Mortal as we are; only the Almighty Wisdom carries it safe through all the Motions of Corruption. And so by Prudence, Human Life it self may be prolong'd if we will but stint our selves in those Pleasures, that bring the greater part of us untimely to our End. Our Passions are nothing else but certain Disallowable Motions of the Mind; Sudden, and Eager; which, by Frequency, and Neglect, turn to a Disease; as a Distillation brings us first to a Cough, and then to a Phthisick. We are carry'd Up to the Heavens, and Down again into the Deep, by Turns; so long as we are govern'd by our Affections, and not by Virtue: Passion, and Reason, are a kind of Civil War within us; and as the one, or the other has Dominion, we are either Good, or Bad. So that it should be our Care, that the worst Mixture may not prevail. And they are link'd, like the Chain of Causes, and Effects, one to another. Betwixt violent Passion, and a Fluctuation, or Wambling of the Mind, there is such a Difference, as betwixt the Agitation of a Storm, and the Nauseous Sickness of a Calm. And they have all of them their Symptoms too, as well as our Bodily Distempers: They that are troubled with the Falling-Sickness, know when the Fit is a coming, by the Cold of the Extreme Parts; the Dazling of the Eyes; the Failing of the Memory; the Trembling of the Nerves, and the Giddiness of the Head: So that every Man knows his own Disease, and should provide against it. Anger, Love, Sadness, Fear, may be read in the Countenance; and so may the Virtues too. Fortitude makes the Eye Vigorous; Prudence makes it Intent; Reverence shews it self in Modesty; Joy, in Serenity; and Truth, in Openness, and Simplicity. There are sown the Seeds of Divine Things in Mortal Bodies. If the Mind be well Cultivated, the Fruit answers the Original; and, if not, all runs into Weeds. We are all of us Sick of Curable Diseases; And it costs us more to be Miserable, than would make us perfectly Happy. Consider the Peaceable state of Clemency, and the Turbulence of Anger; the Softness, and Quiet of Modesty, and the Restlessness of Lust. How cheap, and easie to us is the Service of Virtue, and how dear we pay for our Vices! The Sovereign Good of Man, is a Mind that subjects all things to it self; and is it self subject to nothing: His Pleasures are Modest, Severe, and Reserv'd; and rather the Sauce, or the Diversion of Life, than the Entertainment of it. It may be some Question, whether such a Man goes to Heaven, or Heaven comes to Him: For a good Man is Influenc'd, by God himself; and has a kind of Divinity within him. What if one Good Man Lives in Pleasure, and Plenty, and another in Want, and Misery? 'Tis no Virtue, to contemn Superfluities, but Necessities: And they are both of them Equally Good, though under several Circumstances, and in different Stations.
(pp. 474-476)",,19196,"","""Our Passions are nothing else but certain Disallowable Motions of the Mind; Sudden, and Eager; which, by Frequency, and Neglect, turn to a Disease; as a Distillation brings us first to a Cough, and then to a Phthisick.""","",2011-09-20 16:27:19 UTC,Epistle XXII.
3853,"",Reading,2014-08-28 03:14:23 UTC,"She lov'd one for his Wit, another for his Face, a third for his Mein; but above all, she admir'd Quality: Quality alone had the power to attack her entirely; yet not to one Man, but that Vertue was still admir'd by her in all; where ever she found that, she lov'd, or at least acted the Lover with such Art, that (deceiving well) she fail'd not to compleat her Conquest; and yet she never durst trust her fickle Humour with Marriage: She knew the strength of her own Heart, and that it cou'd not suffer it self to be confin'd to one Man, and wisely avoided those Inquietudes, and that Uneasiness of Life she was sure to find in that married Life, which wou'd, against her Nature, oblige her to the Embraces of one, whose Humour was, to love all the Young, and the Gay. But Love, who had hitherto but play'd with her Heart, and given it naught but pleasing, wanton Wounds, such as afforded only soft Joys, and not Pains, resolv'd, either out of Revenge to those Numbers she had abandon'd, and who had sigh'd so long in vain; or to try what power he had upon so fickle a Heart, sent an Arrow dipp'd in the most tormenting Flames that rage in Hearts most sensible. He struck it home and deep, with all the Malice of an angry God.
(pp. 14-15)",,24409,"","""But Love, who had hitherto but play'd with her Heart, and given it naught but pleasing, wanton Wounds, such as afforded only soft Joys, and not Pains, resolv'd, either out of Revenge to those Numbers she had abandon'd, and who had sigh'd so long in vain; or to try what power he had upon so fickle a Heart, sent an Arrow dipp'd in the most tormenting Flames that rage in Hearts most sensible.""","",2014-08-28 03:14:23 UTC,""