text,updated_at,metaphor,created_at,context,theme,reviewed_on,dictionary,comments,provenance,id,work_id
"These Ruins of his Citie from the Skie,
Alcides look'd on, with a mournfull Eye,
But all in vain; for him the strict command,
And fear of his great Father Jove withstand,
That he should nothing act 'gainst the Decree
Of his severe Step-Mother. Therefore He,
Concealing his Design, to Faith repairs,
Who in the farthest part of Heav'n, the Cares
Of Deities revolv'd: thus, at her Shrine
He tries Her Counsels: Thou great Power Divine!
Born before Jove himself: who art the Grace,
And Honour both of Gods, and Humane Race,
Consort of Justice, without whom nor Seas,
Nor Earth, can know the benefit of Peace;
A Goddess (where thou art) in every Breast!
Canst thou behold Sagunthus, thus opprest,
Unmov'd? That Citie, which, for Thee alone,
So many, so great ills, hath undergone?
For Thee the People dy, upon Thee, all,
Men, Women, Children, that can speak, do call,
By Famine overcome: from Heaven relieve
Their sad Estate, and some Assistance give.
Thus He; To whom the Heav'nly Maid again
Replies. I see all this, nor is't in vain,
That thus my Leagues infringed are: a Day
Shall come, Alcides, that shall sure repay,
With Vengance these their dire Attempts. But I
Was forc'd from the polluted Earth to fly,
To seek, in Jove's blest Mansions, a Place,
Free from the num'rous Frauds of Humane Race.
I left their Tyrans, that their Scepters hold,
Fearing, as they are Fear'd: that Fury, Gold,
The vile Reward of Treacheries, I left,
And above all, the Men, who now bereft
Of all Humanity, like Beasts by Spoil,
And Rapine, live, while Honour is the Foil
To Luxury, and Modesty by Night,
And her dark Crimes opprest, avoids the Light,
The place of Right, the too imperious Sword
Doth arrogate; and Force alone's Ador'd:
Vertue gives way to Vice; for look upon
The Nations of the Earth, and there is none
Is Innocent; their frequent Fellowship
In Crimes, alone, the Common Peace doth keep.
But that these Walls, erected by thy Hand,
May in the Book of Fame for ever stand,
By an End worthy Thee, and that they may
Not give their Bodies up a Captive Prey,
To the Proud African (which, onely, now
The Fates, and State of Future things allow)
The Honour of their Death will I extend
Beyond the pow'r of Fate, and them commend,
As Patterns, to Posterity, and go,
With their prais'd Souls, unto the Shades below.
This said; The constant Virgin, through the Air,
Descends, and to Sagunthus doth repair,
Then strugling with the Fates: through ev'ry Breast
She goes, invades their Minds, which, all-possest
By her great Deitie, each Soul doth prove
Her Altar, burning by her Sacred Love.
Now, as if Strong again, for Arms they cry,
And in the Fight their weak Endeavours try.
Strength, above Hope, they find, while the sweet Name,
And Honour, of the Goddess doth inflame
Their Hearts; resolved, for her Sake, to dye,
And suffer things, far worse then Death; to try
The Food of Savage Beasts, and Crimes to add
To their Repast: but them chaste Faith forbad
Longer, with so much Guilt, to view the Day,
Or with Man's Flesh their Hunger to allay.",2009-09-14 19:34:11 UTC,"""[T]hrough ev'ry Breast [Faith] goes, invades their Minds, which, all-possest / By her great Deitie, each Soul doth prove / Her Altar, burning by her Sacred Love""",2005-05-04 00:00:00 UTC,"","",,Empire,•Translated from Silius Italicus.
•I've included twice: Invasion and Altar,"Searching ""mind"" and ""invad"" in HDIS (Poetry)",9394,3618
"Madam,
As in a Triumph Conquerors admit
Their meanest Captives to attend on it,
Who, though unworthy, have the power confest,
And justifi'd the yielding of the rest:
So when the busie World (in hope t'excuse
Their own surprize) your Conquests do peruse,
And find my name, they will be apt to say,
Your charms were blinded, or else thrown away.
There is no honour got in gaining me,
Who am a prize not worth your Victory.
But this will clear you, that 'tis general,
The worst applaud what is admir'd by all.
But I have plots in't: for the way to be
Secure of fame to all posterity,
Is to obtain the honour I pursue,
To tell the World I was subdu'd by you.
And since in you all wonders common are,
Your Votaries may in your Vertues share,
While you by noble Magick worth impart:
She that can Conquer, can reclaim a heart.
Of this Creation I shall not despair,
Since for your own sake it concerns your care.
For 'tis more honour that the World should know,
You made a noble Soul, than found it so.
",2009-09-14 19:34:14 UTC,"""She that can Conquer, can reclaim a heart""",2005-02-09 00:00:00 UTC,I've included entire poem,"",,"","","Searching ""conque"" and ""heart"" in HDIS (Poetry)",9464,3641
"Dry up your tears, there's enough shed by you,
And we must pay our share of Sorrows too.
It is no private loss when such men fall,
The VVorld's concern'd, and Grief is general.
But though of our Misfortune we complain,
To him it is injurious and vain.
For since we know his rich Integrity,
His real Sweetness, and full Harmony;
How free his heart and house were to his Friends,
VVhom he oblig'd without Design or Ends;
How universal was his courtesie,
How clear a Soul, how even, and how high;
How much he scorn'd disguise or meaner Arts,
But with a native Honour conquer'd Hearts;
We must conclude he was a Treasure lent,
Soon weary of this sordid Tenement.
The Age and World deserv'd him not, and he
Was kindly snatch'd from future Misery.
We can scarce say he's Dead, but gone to rest,
And left a Monument in ev'ry breast.
For you to grieve then in this sad excess,
Is not to speak your Love, but make it less.
A noble Soul no Friendship will admit,
But what's Eternal and Divine as it.
The Soul is hid in mortal flesh we know,
And all its weaknesses must undergo,
Till by degrees it does shine forth at length,
And gathers Beauty, Purity, and Strength:
But never yet doth this Immortal Ray
Put on full splendour till it put off Clay:
So Infant Love is in the worthiest breast
By Sense and Passion fetter'd and opprest;
But by degrees it grows still more refin'd,
And scorning clogs, only concerns the mind.
Now as the Soul you lov'd is here set free
From its material gross capacity;
Your Love should follow him now he is gone,
And quitting Passion, put Perfection on.
Such Love as this will its own good deny,
If its dear Object have Felicity.
And since we cannot his great Loss Reprieve,
Let's not lose you in whom he still doth Live.
For while you are by Grief secluded thus,
It doth appear your Funeral to us.
",2009-09-14 19:34:14 UTC,"One may scorn disguise and meaner Arts and ""with a native Honour"" conquer Hearts",2005-02-09 00:00:00 UTC,I've included entire poem,"",,"","•Cross-reference: Derrick's ""To Silvia""","Searching ""conque"" and ""heart"" in HDIS (Poetry)",9465,3642
"DORIMANT
""Music so softens and disarms the mind--""
HARRIET
""That not one arrow does resistance find.""
(Act V, scene ii, p. 143)",2011-05-25 20:58:34 UTC,"""Music so softens and disarms the mind.""",2003-07-23 00:00:00 UTC,"Act V, scene ii. Dorimant and Harriet Woodvill split a Waller couplet","",2003-10-23,"","•Dorimant quotes Waller throughout the play. Harriet, his equal in wit, is able to finish his couplets for him. From ""Of my Lady Isabella, Playing on the Lute"" (ll. 11-12)",Reading,9581,3700
"BELLINDA
I should blame your discretion for loving that wild man, my dear; but they say he has a way of bewitching that few can defend their hearts who know him.
MRS. LOVEIT
I will tear him from mine, or die i' the attempt!
BELLINDA
Be more moderate.
MRS. LOVEIT
Would I had daggers, darts, or poisoned arrows in my breast, so I could but remove the thoughts of him from thence!
(Act II, scene ii, p. 98)",2014-09-02 21:16:25 UTC,"""Would I had daggers, darts, or poisoned arrows in my breast, so I could but remove the thoughts of him from thence!""",2003-07-23 00:00:00 UTC,Bellinda and Mrs. Loveit discuss Dorimant (who they are both angling for),"",2003-10-23,"","•There are two figurations in the first exchange: defend heart, tear from heart. I've not included either in the database",Reading,9582,3700
"First write Bezaliel, whose illustrious name
Forestalls our praise, and gives his poet fame.
The Kenites' rocky province his command,
A barren limb of fertile Canaan's land;
Which, for its generous natives, yet could be
Held worthy such a president as he.
Bezaliel with each grace and virtue fraught,
Serene his looks, serene his life and thought;
On whom so largely nature heaped her store,
There scarce remained for arts to give him more.
To aid the crown and state his greatest zeal,
His second care, that service to conceal;
Of dues observant, firm to every trust,
And to the needy always more than just;
Who truth from specious falsehood can divide,
Has all the gownsmen's skill without their pride;
Thus crowned with worth, from heights of honour won,
Sees all his glories copied in his son,
Whose forward fame should every muse engage,
Whose youth boasts skill denied to others' age.
Men, manners, language, books of noblest kind,
Already are the conquest of his mind;
Whose loyalty, before its date, was prime,
Nor waited the dull course of rolling time;
The monster faction early he dismayed,
And David's cause long since confessed his aid.
",2009-09-14 19:34:23 UTC,"""Men, manners, language, books of noblest kind"" may be the the conquest of the mind",2005-02-06 00:00:00 UTC,"","",,"","","Searching ""conque"" and ""mind"" in HDIS (Poetry)",9669,3745
"After them Damon Piping came,
Who laughs at Cupid and his Flame;
Swears, if the Boy should him approach,
He'd burn his Wings with his own Torch:
But he's too young for Love t'invade,
Though for him languish many a Maid.
His lovely Ayr, his chearful Face,
Adorn'd with many a Youthful Grace,
Beget more Sighs then if with Arts
He should design to conquer Hearts:
The Swains as well as Nymphs submit
To's Charms of Beauty and of VVit.
He'll sing, he'll dance, he'll pipe and play,
And wanton out a Summers day;
And wheresoever Damon be,
He's still the Soul o'th' Companie.
",2009-09-14 19:34:27 UTC,"One may "" Beget more Sighs then if with Arts / He should design to conquer Hearts""",2005-02-09 00:00:00 UTC,I've included the entire poem,"",,"","","Searching ""conque"" and ""heart"" in HDIS (Poetry)",9742,3781
" Amyntas whilst you
Have an Art to subdue,
And can conquer a Heart with a Look or a Smile,
You Pityless grow,
And no Faith will allow;
'Tis the Glory you seek when you rifle the Spoil.
",2009-09-14 19:34:27 UTC,"One may ""conquer a Heart with a Look or a Smile""",2005-02-09 00:00:00 UTC,"","",,"","","Searching ""conque"" and ""heart"" in HDIS (Poetry)",9743,3782
" Her Bright Eyes sweet, and yet severe,
VVhere Love and Shame confus'dly strive,
Fresh Vigor to Lysander give;
And breathing faintly in his Ear,
She cry'd--Cease, Cease--your vain Desire,
Or I'll call out--What would you do?
My Dearer Honour ev'n to You
I cannot, must not give--Retire,
Or take this Life, whose chiefest part
I gave you with the Conquest of my Heart.
",2009-09-14 19:34:27 UTC,"""[T]ake this Life, whose chiefest part / I gave you with the Conquest of my Heart""",2005-02-09 00:00:00 UTC,"","",,"","","Searching ""conque"" and ""heart"" in HDIS (Poetry)",9744,3783
"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)",2011-09-20 16:29:18 UTC,"""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.""",2011-09-20 16:29:18 UTC,Epistle XXII.,"",,"","","Searching ""mind"" in Google Books",19197,7097