work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context
5973,"",HDIS,2003-12-17 00:00:00 UTC,"In gulfs of aweful night we find
The God of our desires;
'Tis there he stamps the yielding mind,
And doubles all its fires.
(ll. 9-12, p. 104)",,15883,"",The mind's fires may be doubled,"",2009-09-14 19:44:59 UTC,""
5975,Ruling Passion,"Searching ""ruling passion"" in HDIS (Restoration and C18)",2004-05-18 00:00:00 UTC," DEAR madam, hear a suppliant's pray'r,
And on our bard your censure spare,
Whase bluntness slights ilk trivial care
Of mock decorum:
Since for a bard its unko rare
To look before him.
With joy to praise, with freedom blame,
To ca' folk by their Christian name,
To speak his mind, but fear or shame,
Was at his fashion:
But virtue his eternal flame,
His ruling passion.
This by-past time, as fame reports,
The author's Muse was out of sorts,
And in some freak, perhaps in dorts,
Or ablins spleen:
She paid her visists at the shorts,
An' lang between.
",,15885,•I've included twice: once in Government and once in Uncategorized
•Published in Elizabeth Scot's Alonzo and Cora (1801),"Virtue may be a man's ""eternal flame"" or ""ruling passion""","",2009-09-14 19:44:59 UTC,I've included the entire poem
5994,"",HDIS,2003-12-30 00:00:00 UTC,"""Go, go, my lambs, untended homeward fare;
My thoughts are all now due to other care.
All this I kept in leaves of laurel-rind
Enfolded safe, and for thy view design'd,
This, and a gift from Manso's hand beside,
(Manso, not least his native city's pride,)
Two cups, that radiant as their giver shone,
Adorn'd by sculpture with a double zone.
The spring was graven there; here slowly wind
The Red-sea shores with groves of spices lined;
Her plumes of various hues amid the boughs
The sacred, solitary Phoenix shows,
And watchful of the dawn, reverts her head,
To see Aurora leave her watery bed.--
In other part, the expansive vault above,
And there too, even there, the god of love;
With quiver arm'd he mounts, his torch displays
A vivid light, his gem-tipt arrows blaze,
Around his bright and fiery eyes he rolls,
Nor aims at vulgar minds, or little souls,
Nor deigns one look below, but aiming high
Sends every arrow to the lofty sky;
Hence forms divine, and minds immortal, learn
The power of Cupid, and enamour'd burn.
(ll. 254-77, pp. 163-4)",,15929,"•From Cowper's Translations of Milton, 1791-2. First printed in Hayley's The Life, and Posthumous Writings, William Cowper, Esqr., 3 vols. ,1803-4.
","Minds immortal may learn the ""power of Cupid"" and ""enamour'd burn""","",2009-09-14 19:45:06 UTC,""
6064,"","Searching ""heart"" and ""iron"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2005-06-07 00:00:00 UTC,"When Churchill enter'd on the critic war,
With thunder clothing his loud-crushing car;
Tho' party-zeal inflam'd his iron heart,
And prejudice sharp pointed ev'ry dart;
With glowing thoughts, his mind profusely teem'd;
And, on his burnish'd armour, Genius beam'd:
Meanwhile, th' illumin'd spirit, from her throne
Beheld his course, and ""mark'd him for her own.""",,16062,"","""Tho' party-zeal inflam'd his iron heart, / And prejudice sharp pointed ev'ry dart; / With glowing thoughts, his mind profusely teem'd.""",Metal,2013-10-12 03:43:24 UTC,""
6141,"","Searching ""heart"" and ""guest"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2006-03-13 00:00:00 UTC,"Who founds his faith on Revelation's base
Must hold, that all of Adam's sinful race
Inherit death from their delinquent sire:
Yet still may christian Charity aspire,
To nurse a modest hope that those who lie
Uncherish'd by the Day-spring from on high
May still be blest, ev'n though a tenfold shade
Of Pagan darkness now involves their head;
And only those, the obstinately blind,
Will meet the doom intail'd on lost mankind.
Hence the same Charity, heart-cheering guest,
That burnt, with fervent flame, in Dryden's breast,
Inspirits mine; that Charity, which Paul
Says ""hopeth all things, and believeth all,""
But this is not reveal'd: what is alone
The true believer dares to call his own.
More he may hope, and he that hopes the most,
Though haply by some waves of error tost,
Will steer his Christian bark from quicksands free,
Whose helm is Faith, whose sail is Charity.",,16196,•I've included twice: Guest and Flame,"""Hence the same Charity, heart-cheering guest, / That burnt, with fervent flame, in Dryden's breast, / Inspirits mine""",Inhabitants,2009-09-14 19:46:01 UTC,""
6144,"",HDIS,2004-01-03 00:00:00 UTC,"There walks a Spirit o'er the peopled earth,
Secret his progress is, unknown his birth;
Moody and viewless as the changing wind,
No force arrests his foot, no chains can bind;
Where'er he turns, the human brute awakes,
And, roused to better life, his sordid hut forsakes:
He thinks, he reasons, glows with purer fires,
Feels finer wants, and burns with new desires:
Obedient Nature follows where he leads;
The steaming marsh is changed to fruitful meads;
The beasts retire from man's asserted reign,
And prove his kingdom was not given in vain.
Then from its bed is drawn the ponderous ore,
Then Commerce pours her gifts on every shore,
Then Babel's towers and terraced gardens rise,
And pointed obelisks invade the skies;
The prince commands, in Tyrian purple drest,
And Egypt's virgins weave the linen vest.
Then spans the graceful arch the roaring tide,
And stricter bounds the cultured fields divide.
Then kindles Fancy, then expands the heart,
Then blow the flowers of Genius and of Art;
Saints, heroes, sages, who the land adorn,
Seem rather to descend than to be born;
Whilst History, midst the rolls consigned to fame,
With pen of adamant inscribes their name.
(ll. 215-40, pp. 169-70)",,16201,"",Fancy may be kindled,"",2009-09-14 19:46:01 UTC,""
6152,Ruling Passion,"Searching HDIS for ""ruling passion""",2004-05-28 00:00:00 UTC,"PROLOGUE.
Let cynic pride with supercilious air,
Arraign the venial failings of the fair;
To night with juster aim our Poet shews
In female hearts what genuine virtue glows.
Not that stern passion, that unlovely flame,
Which sear'd the bosom of the Spartan dame,
Who saw, nor shed one sad maternal tear,
Her slaughter'd son extended on the bier:
Then cold and careless press'd the nuptial bed,
Or to her couch the casual stranger led;
And dead to each soft feeling, ask'd from fate
Another boy, to perish for the State.
Round British nymphs more winning graces move,
They melt with pity, and they glow with love.
Yet while their bosoms own the tender fire,
Their generous minds can check each fond desire;
The promis'd joy with patriot zeal forego,
Nor own a lover in their country's foe.
Nor, Britons, you our moral scenes despise,
Still from the Stage does true instruction rise.
Let no mean thought your ardent souls engage,
Nor party rancour, nor religious rage;
But all alike with generous warmth embrace,
Whose kindred virtues speak their British race:
In every age, in every state we find,
One passion govern every gallant mind.
Tho' wealth allure, tho' just resentment move,
That ruling passion is their country's love.
Then rush, united! midst the war's alarms,
And face, unmov'd, the hostile world in arms.
Lives there a youth will shun the noble strife,
Or doubt in such a cause to stake his life,
Who hears me now the glorious prize proclaim,
His mistress' favour, and his country's fame",,16211,•First performed in 1782,"In female hearts ""genuine virtue"" may glow and not that ""stern passion, that unlovely flame, / which sear'd the bosom of the Spartan dame""","",2009-09-14 19:46:03 UTC,Prologue
6152,"","Searching HDIS for ""ruling passion""",2004-05-28 00:00:00 UTC,"PROLOGUE.
Let cynic pride with supercilious air,
Arraign the venial failings of the fair;
To night with juster aim our Poet shews
In female hearts what genuine virtue glows.
Not that stern passion, that unlovely flame,
Which sear'd the bosom of the Spartan dame,
Who saw, nor shed one sad maternal tear,
Her slaughter'd son extended on the bier:
Then cold and careless press'd the nuptial bed,
Or to her couch the casual stranger led;
And dead to each soft feeling, ask'd from fate
Another boy, to perish for the State.
Round British nymphs more winning graces move,
They melt with pity, and they glow with love.
Yet while their bosoms own the tender fire,
Their generous minds can check each fond desire;
The promis'd joy with patriot zeal forego,
Nor own a lover in their country's foe.
Nor, Britons, you our moral scenes despise,
Still from the Stage does true instruction rise.
Let no mean thought your ardent souls engage,
Nor party rancour, nor religious rage;
But all alike with generous warmth embrace,
Whose kindred virtues speak their British race:
In every age, in every state we find,
One passion govern every gallant mind.
Tho' wealth allure, tho' just resentment move,
That ruling passion is their country's love.
Then rush, united! midst the war's alarms,
And face, unmov'd, the hostile world in arms.
Lives there a youth will shun the noble strife,
Or doubt in such a cause to stake his life,
Who hears me now the glorious prize proclaim,
His mistress' favour, and his country's fame",,16212,•First performed in 1782,"British nymphs even while ""their bosoms own the tender fire, / Their generous minds can check each fond desire""
","",2009-09-14 19:46:03 UTC,Prologue
6058,"",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2012-01-09 18:37:46 UTC,"Superstition! more destructive still
Than plague or famine, tyranny or war!
Thou palsying mischief, thou benumbing foe
To all the proudest energies of man!
Whence springs thy subtle desolating charm,
From pompous pageantry and bigot pride,
From mitred canopies, and shrines of gold,
And bones of mould'ring monks? Can freezing nights,
In cells where cold inanity presides,
Cloath'd in religion's meek and sainted guise,
Or long-drawn pageantry of empty show,
Conceal the trembling soul, from that dread pow'r
Which marks th' All-seeing! On Italia's shores,
On every plain, on ev'ry mountain top,
The voice of nature speaks, in mighty sounds,
To bid thee tremble! Then, O! nature, say--
Shall rich Italia's bow'rs, her citron shades,
Her vales prolific, mountains golden clad,
And rivers fring'd with nectar-teeming groves,
Re-echo with the mighty song of praise
To empyrean space, while shackled still
The man of colour dies? Shall torrid suns
Shoot downward their hot beams on mis'ry's race,
And call forth luxuries to pamper pride,
Steep'd in the Ethiop's tears, the Ethiop's blood!
Shall the caprice of nature, the deep tint
Of sultry climes, the feature varying,
Or the uncultur'd mind, endure the scourge
Of sordid tyranny, or heap the stores
Of his fair fellow man, whose ruddy cheek
Knows not the tear of pity; whose white breast
Conceals a heart, than adamant more hard,
More cruel than the tiger's! Bend thy gaze
O! happy offspring of a temper'd clime,
On whom the partial hand of nature set
The stamp of bloomy tints, proportions fine,
Unmixing with the goodly outside shew
The mind appropriate; bend thy pitying gaze
To Zembla's frozen sphere; where in his hut,
Roof'd by the rocky steep, the savage smiles,
In conscious freedom smiles, and mocks the storm
That howls along the sky. Th' unshackled limb,
Cloth'd in the shaggy hide of uncouth bear,
Or the fleet mountain elk, bounds o'er the cliff
The free-born tenant of the desert wild.
The glow of liberty, thro' ev'ry vein
Bids sensate streams revolve; the dusky path
Of midnight solitudes no terror brings,
Because he fears no lord. The prowling wolf,
Whose eye-balls redden 'midst the world of gloom,
Yells fierce defiance, form'd by nature's law
To share the desert's freedom. O'er the sky
The despot darkness reigns, in sullen pride,
Half the devoted year. His ebon wing
O'ershadows the blank space: his chilling breath
Benumbs the breast of nature; on his brow,
Myriads of stars with lucid lustre gem
His boundless diadem! The savage cheek
Smiles at the potent spoiler; braves his frown;
And while the partial gloom is most opake,
Still vaunts the mind unfetter'd! If for these
Indulgent nature breaks the bonds of woe,
Gilding the deepest solitudes of night
With the pure flame of liberty sublime;
If for the untaught sons of gelid climes,
Health cheers the darkest hour with vig'rous age,
Shall the poor African, the passive slave,
Born in the bland effulgence of broad day,
Cherish'd by torrid splendours, while around
The plains prolific teem with honey'd stores
Of Afric's burning soil; shall such a wretch
Sink prematurely to a grave obscure,
No tear to grace his ashes? Or suspire,
To wear submission's long and goading chain,
To drink the tear, that down his swarthy cheek
Flows fast, to moisten his toil-fever'd lip,
Parch'd by the noontide blaze? Shall he endure
The frequent lash, the agonizing scourge,
The day of labour, and the night of pain;
Expose his naked limbs to burning gales;
Faint in the sun, and wither in the storm;
Traverse hot sands, imbibe the morbid breeze,
Wing'd with contagion, while his blister'd feet,
Scorch'd by the vertical and raging beam,
Pour the swift life-stream? Shall his frenzied eyes,
Oh! worst of mortal miseries! behold
The darling of his soul, his sable love,
Selected from the trembling, timid throng
By the wan tyrant, whose licentious touch
Seals the dark fiat of the slave's despair!
Humanity! from thee the suppliant claims
The meed of retribution! Thy pure flame
Would light the sense opake, and warm the spring
Of boundless ecstacy; while nature's laws
So violated, plead, immortal-tongu'd,
For her dark-fated children; lead them forth
From bondage infamous! Bid reason own
The dignities of man, whate'er his clime,
Estate, or colour. And, O! sacred truth!
Tell the proud lords of traffic, that the breast
Thrice ebon-tinted, bears a crimson tide,
As pure, as clear as Europe's sons can boast.
Then, liberty, extend thy thund'ring voice
To Afric's scorching climes, o'er seas that bound
To bear the blissful tidings, while all earth
Shall hail humanity! the child of heav'n!",,19425,"Lots of fetters and bondage in this stanza, but not fetter metaphor of mind!","""Thy pure flame / Would light the sense opake, and warm the spring / Of boundless ecstacy; while nature's laws / So violated, plead, immortal-tongu'd, / For her dark-fated children; lead them forth / From bondage infamous!""","",2012-01-09 18:38:53 UTC,""
6054,"",Reading,2013-10-15 18:21:50 UTC,"A thousand torments wait on love;
The sigh, the tear, the anguish'd groan!
But he who never learnt to prove
A jealous pang, has nothing known.
For jealousy, supreme of woe,
Nurs'd by distorted fancy's pow'r,
Can round the heart bid mis'ry grow,
Which darkens with the ling'ring hour;
While shadows, blanks to reason 's orb,
In dread succession haunt the brain;
And pangs, that ev'ry pang absorb,
In wild convulsive tumults reign.
At morn, at eve, the fever burns,
While phantoms tear the aching breast;
Day brings no calm, and night returns,
But marks no soothing hour of rest.
Nor when the bosom's wasted fires
Are all extinct, is anguish o'er;
For jealousy, which ne'er expires,
Can wound--when passion is no more.
(Cf. Vol. I, p. 290 in 1797 printing)",,23004,"","""Nor when the bosom's wasted fires / Are all extinct, is anguish o'er; / For jealousy, which ne'er expires, / Can wound--when passion is no more.""","",2013-10-15 18:21:50 UTC,""