work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context
3834,"","Searching ""mind"" and ""empire"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2004-08-10 00:00:00 UTC,"This Heart of mine, now wreck'd upon despair,
Was once as free and careless as the Air;
In th' early Morning of my tender years,
E're I was sensible of Hopes and Fears,
It floated in a Sea of Mirth and Ease,
And thought the World was only made to please;
No adverse Wind had ever stopp'd its Course,
Nor had it felt great Love's tempestuous Force,
(That Storm that swells the Tydes of Human Care,
And makes black Waves come rolling from afar,)
'Till too much Freedom made it grow secure,
As if the Sunshine always would endure;
And I, with haughty and disdainful Pride,
Mock'd the blind God, and all his Force defy'd.
At this enrag'd, the injur'd Deity
Chose out the best of his Artillery,
And in a blooming Virgin's Dove-like Eyes
He planted his Victorious Batteries;
(Phillis her Name, the best of Woman-kind,
Could Love have gain'd the Empire of her Mind)
These shot so furiously against my Heart,
That Nature's strength, tho' much improv'd by Art,
With Groans gave way to each resistless stroak,
As when the Thunder rends some sturdy Oak.
The wing'd Battalions from her lovely face
Flew to the Breach, and, rushing in apace,
Did quickly make her Mistress of the place.
",,9865,"","""At this enrag'd, the injur'd Deity / Chose out the best of his Artillery, / And in a blooming Virgin's Dove-like Eyes / He planted his Victorious Batteries; / (Phillis her Name, the best of Woman-kind, / Could Love have gain'd the Empire of her Mind) / These shot so furiously against my Heart, / That Nature's strength, tho' much improv'd by Art, / With Groans gave way to each resistless stroak, / As when the Thunder rends some sturdy Oak.""","",2018-06-18 15:36:31 UTC,""
3326,"",Searching in Google Books,2011-06-28 02:59:08 UTC,"Confession of a fault makes half amends for it.
He that contemplates hath a day without a night.
He may well be contented who needs neither borrow nor flatter.
He that converseth not with men knoweth nothing.
Corn in good years is hay, in ill years straw is corn.
Corn is cleansed with the wind, and the soul with chastning.
He covers me with his wings, and bites me with his bill.
A covetous man is like a dog in a wheel that roasteth meat for others.
A dry cough is the trumpeter of death.
(p. 4)",,18834,"","""Corn is cleansed with the wind, and the soul with chastning.""","",2011-06-28 02:59:08 UTC,""