work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context
3640,Conscience,Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2005-06-07 00:00:00 UTC,"The Conscience was ever, and is still
The fountain of all actions, good or ill;
And all the actings, whether foul or fair,
Of men, are as their Consciences are.
Conscience goes with us where e're we go,
To bear record of whatsoe're we do.
Conscience is Gods Vice-Roy in the Soul,
And all are liable to its controul.
Conscience is Christs Vicar in mans heart,
It keeps Court there, and acts the Judges part.
Its verdict can be by no pow'r repeal'd,
Its stroaks are wounds that never can be heal'd:
It's the Souls Anchor, boldness it maintains
In judgment, and is of unwearied pains.
Conscience is most like God, it is supreme,
But under God this Jewel, O esteem
For its great worth, as rarest next to Christ;
It is our Patron, our Apologist;
It is impartial, active, and sincere,
Gods Register in us; his Harbinger
For to prepare his way; this is beside
Mans faithful Surety, Treasurer and Guide.
The evidence of a good Conscience will
Find with the judge of hearts acceptance still;
Good Conscience is the only Ark that can
Ding down the Dagons of all deeds prophane.
A Conscience unstain'd with blushing crimes,
Holds out in all changes of States and Times.
Mount Sion and good Conscience abide
For ever, and tentations can deride.
A Conscience that is kept free from blame,
Laughs at the false reports of long-tongu'd fame.
Good Conscience will speak within, when all breath,
The doors are shut to ev'ry vocal call.
When riches, husband, wife, parents, friends, breath,
Life, patience, firm hope, assured faith
Have left us; a good Conscience is so fast
A friend, that it sticks to us till the last.
A right good Conscience term this we may,
To live therein until our dying day.
Good Conscience still keeps Holy-day, is bent
To feasting ev'ry day; there is no Lent,
No Fasting-days that interrupt this Feast,
But still the chear is more and more encreas'd.
Who keeps his Conscience from offences clear,
That man keeps Hil'ry Term throughout the year
But he that shipwracks a good Conscience shall
Let in great riches, but the Devil withal.
Good Conscience, as Davids Instrument,
Drives away th'evil Spirit of discontent.
Good Conscience can suck content divine,
From bitt'rest drugs, turn Marah into Wine.
Can sweetly smile, ev'n in afflictions sharp,
This made Pauls Prisons-songs, tun'd Davids harp.
It is a Paradise with pleasures fraught,
All our best duties are without it naught.
It's to the Castle of the Heart a Wall
Of Brass: it is a Christians coat of Mail,
How many do for want of it miscarry!
It is a cordial Electuary:
And very many good ingredients go
Therein, Meat, Drink, Sleep, Ease, Refreshment too.
Good Conscience on God it self can roul;
'Tis Aquavitæ to the swouning soul.
A Conscience that from wickedness is pure,
Can in the Cannons mouth repose secure.
No such provision 'gainst an evil day,
As a good Conscience; this is they say
A constant Feast; who hath a Conscience good,
Fares well although he have no other Food.
A sincere heart will not do any thing
'Gainst Conscience, is bold in suffering;
But ah! fearful of sin, such as upright
would walk, must have God always in their sight.
",,9497,•Rich stanza.,"""A Conscience unstain'd with blushing crimes, / Holds out in all changes of States and Times. / Mount Sion and good Conscience abide / For ever""","",2009-09-14 19:34:16 UTC,""
3676,"","Reading Louis Bredvold's The Intellectual Milieu of John Dryden (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1962), p. 63.",2005-04-06 00:00:00 UTC,"ALMANZOR
O Heaven, how dark a riddle's thy decree,
Which bounds are wills, yet seems to leave them free!
Since thy fore-knowledge cannot be in vain,
Our choice must be what thou didst first ordain.
Thus, like a captive in an isle confined,
Man walks at large, a prisoner of the mind:
Wills all his crimes, while Heaven the indictment draws,
And pleading guilty, justifies the laws.",,9537,•I've included twice: Island and Prison
•Cross-reference: Robinson Crusoe.,"""Thus, like a captive in an isle confined, / Man walks at large, a prisoner of the mind.""","",2013-10-06 17:46:14 UTC,""
3756,"","Reading Norton Critical Edition of Seventeenth Century British Poetry, 1603-1660",2006-12-15 00:00:00 UTC,"My mind was once the true survey
Of all these meadows fresh and gay;
And in the greenness of the grass
Did see its hopes as in a glass;
When Juliana came, and she,
What I do to the grass, does to my thoughts and me.
(ll. 1-6)",,9687,"","""My mind was once the true survey / Of all these meadows fresh and gay""","",2009-09-14 19:34:24 UTC,""
3756,"","Reading Norton Critical Edition of Seventeenth Century British Poetry, 1603-1660",2006-12-15 00:00:00 UTC,"But what you in compassion ought,
Shall now by my revenge be wrought:
And flowers, and grass, and I and all,
Will in one common ruin fall.
For Juliana comes, and she,
What I do to the grass, does to my thoughts and me.
(ll. 19-24)",,9689,•The refrain. Recurs in each stanza. This is the only refrain in Marvell's poetry,"""For Juliana comes, and she, / What I do to the grass, does to my thoughts and me.""","",2009-09-14 19:34:24 UTC,""
6847,"","Browsing Randy Hoyt's website, from which the unicode Greek is drawn.",2011-05-17 20:09:31 UTC,"ψυχῆς πείρατα ἰὼν οὐκ ἂν ἐξεύροιο πᾶσαν ἐπιπορευόμενος ὁδόν· οὕτω βαθὺν λόγον ἔχει
[One would never discover the limits of soul, should one traverse every road--so deep a measure does it possess.]
(DK B45)",,18389,"","""One would never discover the limits of soul, should one traverse every road--so deep a measure does it possess.""","",2011-05-18 03:38:50 UTC,Fragment 45
6848,"","Searching ""mind"" at Perseus Digital Library",2011-05-18 03:32:04 UTC,"haec mandata prius constanti mente tenentem
Thesea ceu pulsae ventorum flamine nubes
aerium nivei montis liquere cacumen.
at pater, ut summa prospectum ex arce petebat
anxia in adsiduos absumens lumina fletus,
cum primum inflati conspexit lintea veli,
praecipitem sese scopulorum e vertice iecit
amissum credens immiti Thesea fato.
sic funesta domus ingressus tecta paterna
morte ferox Theseus, qualem Minoidi luctu
obtulerat mente immemori, talem ipse recepit.
[These charges, at first held in constant mind, from Theseus slipped away as clouds are impelled by the breath of the winds from the ethereal peak of a snow-clad mount. But as his father sought the castle's turrets as watchplace, dimming his anxious eyes with continual weeping, when first he spied the discoloured canvas, flung himself headlong from the top of the crags, believing Theseus lost by harsh fate. Thus as he entered the grief-stricken house, his paternal roof, Theseus savage with slaughter met with like grief as that which with unmemoried mind he had dealt to Minos' daughter: while she gazed with grieving at his disappearing keel, turned over a tumult of cares in her wounded spirit.]",,18401,"","""These charges, at first held in constant mind, from Theseus slipped away as clouds are impelled by the breath of the winds from the ethereal peak of a snow-clad mount.""","",2011-05-18 03:32:27 UTC,Poem 64
7295,"","Searching ""horse"" and ""imagination"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2012-07-05 14:03:15 UTC,"A thought for Breeding would a Travellour be,
The several Countries in the Brain to see;
Spurr'd with Desires he was, Booted with Hope,
His Cap Curios'ty, Patience was his Cloak:
Thus Suited, strait a Horse he did provide,
And Strong Imagination got to Ride;
Which Sadled with Ambition, Girt with Pride,
Bridled with Doubt, and Stirrups on each Side
Of Resolution, he did Mount, and went
In a full Gallop of a good Intent:
Some ways i'th' Brain were Ill, and Foul withall,
Which made him oft into deep Errours fall;
Oft was he hid by Mountains high of Fear,
Then slid down Precipices of Despair;
Woods of Forgetfulness he oft past through,
To find the Right way out, had much ado;
In Troubles he had Travel'd a long way,
At last he came where Thieves of Spight close lay,
Who coming forth, drew out Reproachfull words,
Which wounded Reputation, as sharp Swords;
When he did feel the Wound smart, he drew out
Truth from Time's Scabbard, and Fought well and stout;
With an Innocent Thrust he left Spight Dead,
Wip'd of the Blood of Slander, Purple Red:
Then coming to a River of Temptation,
Which Deep and Dang'rous was of Tribulation,
He Swum with Temp'rance, and got out at last,
And with Security all Dangers past:
At last he to the City came of Power,
Where Tyranny did stand, a great high Tower,
With Discords populous, where Riot rules,
Great Colleges there were, to breed up Fools;
Large Houses of Extortion high were Built,
And all with Prodigality were Gilt;
Their Streets were Pitcht with Dull and Lazie stone,
Which never hurt the Feet, when Trod upon;
Markets of Plent'ful Circuits were there,
Where all Sorts came, and did Buy without care;
Herbs of Repentance there were in great store,
But Roots of Ignorance were many more;
The Carts of Knowledge much Provision brought,
And Understanding, which Truth Sold, some bought;
All what was Bought, prov'd good or bad by chance,
For some were Cousened by false Ignorance.
Then forthwith into Shamble-row he went,
VVhere store of Meat hung up, for 'twas no Lent;
There lay an Head with Wit and Fancies fill'd,
And many Hearts by Grief and Sorrow Kill'd;
Bladders of VVindy Opinions were there,
And Tongues of Eloquence hung on an Ear;
VVeak Livers of great Fear lay there to Sell,
And Spleens of Malice very Big did Swell;
Tough Lungs of VVilfulness were hard and dry,
VVhole Guts of Self-conceit did hang thereby.
Then to a Poult'rers Shop, he went to see
VVhat Foul there was, if any Good there be;
There lay wild Geese, though black and heavy Meat,
Yet some Gross Appetite lik'd them to Eat;
The Cholerick Turkie, and the Peacocks Pride,
The Foolish Dotterels lay there close beside;
Capons of Expectation Cramm'd with Hope,
And Swans of Large Desires lay in the Shop;
Reproachfull Words were Sold by Dozens there,
And Ignorant Gulls did Lye every where;
Poetical Birds many were to Sell,
More Fowl, which he remembred not to tell:
But being a Travellour, heel'd see all there,
And strait did go to Churches of great Fear,
VVhere each one Kneel'd upon the Knee of Pain,
And Prayers said with Tongues that were Prophane;
Petitioning Tears dropt from Coveting Eyes,
Deceitfull Hearts on Altars of Disguise;
Earnest they were to th'Gods, that they would give
Worldly Request, not Grace for Souls to Live:
But Travels of Experience he would see,
Which made him go to th'Court of Vanity;
The Porter Flattery Sate at the Gate,
Who Civil was, and Carried him in strait;
To Beauty's Presence-chamber first he went,
There staid some time with great and sweet Content;
Next to the Privy-chamber of Discourse,
Where Ignorance and Nonsense had great Force;
Then to the Bed-chamber of Love's Delights,
The Grooms which served there were Carpet Knights;
Thence he to th'Council of Direction went,
Where Great Disorder Sate as President;
No sooner this poor Stranger he did view,
Reproachfull Words out of his Mouth he threw,
Commanding Poverty a Sergeant poor,
To take and cast this Stranger out of Door;
Strait Flattery for him Intreated much,
But he Disorder's Ear doth seldome Touch;
For Cast he was into Necessity,
Which is a Prison of great Misery:
But Patience got him an Expedient pass,
So Home he went, but Rid upon an Ass.
(pp. 261-4)",,19864,"","""A thought for Breeding would a Travellour be, / The several Countries in the Brain to see; / Spurr'd with Desires he was, Booted with Hope, / His Cap Curios'ty, Patience was his Cloak: / Thus Suited, strait a Horse he did provide, / And Strong Imagination got to Ride; / Which Sadled with Ambition, Girt with Pride, / Bridled with Doubt, and Stirrups on each Side / Of Resolution, he did Mount, and went / In a full Gallop of a good Intent.""",Beasts,2014-07-11 18:05:32 UTC,I've included the entire poem
7295,"",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2012-07-05 14:07:46 UTC,"A thought for Breeding would a Travellour be,
The several Countries in the Brain to see;
Spurr'd with Desires he was, Booted with Hope,
His Cap Curios'ty, Patience was his Cloak:
Thus Suited, strait a Horse he did provide,
And Strong Imagination got to Ride;
Which Sadled with Ambition, Girt with Pride,
Bridled with Doubt, and Stirrups on each Side
Of Resolution, he did Mount, and went
In a full Gallop of a good Intent:
Some ways i'th' Brain were Ill, and Foul withall,
Which made him oft into deep Errours fall;
Oft was he hid by Mountains high of Fear,
Then slid down Precipices of Despair;
Woods of Forgetfulness he oft past through,
To find the Right way out, had much ado;
In Troubles he had Travel'd a long way,
At last he came where Thieves of Spight close lay,
Who coming forth, drew out Reproachfull words,
Which wounded Reputation, as sharp Swords;
When he did feel the Wound smart, he drew out
Truth from Time's Scabbard, and Fought well and stout;
With an Innocent Thrust he left Spight Dead,
Wip'd of the Blood of Slander, Purple Red:
Then coming to a River of Temptation,
Which Deep and Dang'rous was of Tribulation,
He Swum with Temp'rance, and got out at last,
And with Security all Dangers past:
At last he to the City came of Power,
Where Tyranny did stand, a great high Tower,
With Discords populous, where Riot rules,
Great Colleges there were, to breed up Fools;
Large Houses of Extortion high were Built,
And all with Prodigality were Gilt;
Their Streets were Pitcht with Dull and Lazie stone,
Which never hurt the Feet, when Trod upon;
Markets of Plent'ful Circuits were there,
Where all Sorts came, and did Buy without care;
Herbs of Repentance there were in great store,
But Roots of Ignorance were many more;
The Carts of Knowledge much Provision brought,
And Understanding, which Truth Sold, some bought;
All what was Bought, prov'd good or bad by chance,
For some were Cousened by false Ignorance.
Then forthwith into Shamble-row he went,
VVhere store of Meat hung up, for 'twas no Lent;
There lay an Head with Wit and Fancies fill'd,
And many Hearts by Grief and Sorrow Kill'd;
Bladders of VVindy Opinions were there,
And Tongues of Eloquence hung on an Ear;
VVeak Livers of great Fear lay there to Sell,
And Spleens of Malice very Big did Swell;
Tough Lungs of VVilfulness were hard and dry,
VVhole Guts of Self-conceit did hang thereby.
Then to a Poult'rers Shop, he went to see
VVhat Foul there was, if any Good there be;
There lay wild Geese, though black and heavy Meat,
Yet some Gross Appetite lik'd them to Eat;
The Cholerick Turkie, and the Peacocks Pride,
The Foolish Dotterels lay there close beside;
Capons of Expectation Cramm'd with Hope,
And Swans of Large Desires lay in the Shop;
Reproachfull Words were Sold by Dozens there,
And Ignorant Gulls did Lye every where;
Poetical Birds many were to Sell,
More Fowl, which he remembred not to tell:
But being a Travellour, heel'd see all there,
And strait did go to Churches of great Fear,
VVhere each one Kneel'd upon the Knee of Pain,
And Prayers said with Tongues that were Prophane;
Petitioning Tears dropt from Coveting Eyes,
Deceitfull Hearts on Altars of Disguise;
Earnest they were to th'Gods, that they would give
Worldly Request, not Grace for Souls to Live:
But Travels of Experience he would see,
Which made him go to th'Court of Vanity;
The Porter Flattery Sate at the Gate,
Who Civil was, and Carried him in strait;
To Beauty's Presence-chamber first he went,
There staid some time with great and sweet Content;
Next to the Privy-chamber of Discourse,
Where Ignorance and Nonsense had great Force;
Then to the Bed-chamber of Love's Delights,
The Grooms which served there were Carpet Knights;
Thence he to th'Council of Direction went,
Where Great Disorder Sate as President;
No sooner this poor Stranger he did view,
Reproachfull Words out of his Mouth he threw,
Commanding Poverty a Sergeant poor,
To take and cast this Stranger out of Door;
Strait Flattery for him Intreated much,
But he Disorder's Ear doth seldome Touch;
For Cast he was into Necessity,
Which is a Prison of great Misery:
But Patience got him an Expedient pass,
So Home he went, but Rid upon an Ass.",,19865,"REVISIT: after this the poem seems to turn more straightforwardly allegorical... We lose the sense, I think, that we are inside, in the brain....","""Some ways i'th' Brain were Ill, and Foul with all, / Which made him oft into deep Errours fall; / Oft was he hid by Mountains high of Fear, / Then slid down Precipices of Despair; / Woods of Forgetfulness he oft past through, / To find the Right way out, had much ado.""","",2012-07-05 14:12:18 UTC,I've included the entire poem
7988,"",Reading,2014-07-28 18:19:07 UTC,"And first, the way of Meditating, I would recommend, conduces to keep the Soul from Idleness, and Employments worse than Idleness; for while a Man's thoughts are busi'd about the present subjects of his Reflections, our Ghostly Adversary is discourag'd to attempt that Soul, which he sees already taken up, with something that is at least innocent, if not good. If I had not elsewhere display'd the Evil and Danger of Idleness, and represented it as a thing, which, though we should admit not to be in it self a sin, yet may easily prove a greater mischief than a very great one, by at once tempting the Tempter to tempt us, and exposing the empty Soul, like an uninhabited place, to the next Passion or Temptation that takes the opportunity to seize upon it: If (I say) I had not elsewhere discours'd at large against Idleness, I might here represent it as so formidable an Enemy, that it would appear alone a sufficient Motive to welcome our way of Meditation; That it banishes Idleness. He that is vers'd in making Reflections upon what occurs to him; He that (consequently) has the works of Nature, and the actions of Men, and almost every Casualty that falls under his Notice, to set his Thoughts on work, shall scarce want Themes to employ them on: And he that can (as it were) make the World vocal, by furnishing every Creature, and almost every occurrence, with a Tongue to entertain him with, and can make the little Accidents of his Life, and the very Flowers of his Garden, read him Lectures of Ethicks or Divinity; such a one, I say, shall scarce need to fly to the Tavern, or a worse place, to get a Drawer, or a Gamester (perhaps no better qualifi'd) to help him to get rid of his time, such a one will rather pity, than pursue those, who think it their Priviledge to spend their whole Life in Diversions from the main Business of it; and out of an unskilful, and ill govern'd self-love, are come to that pass, that they cannot endure to be with themselves. Such a one will not need to frequent the company of those Gamesters, that are sure to lose that, which all their winnings will never be able to buy, or to redeem, and expose themselves coldly to as many Casualties, as ev'n War could threaten; and voluntarily tempt those Passions, it is the Task of Wisdome to decline, and a Virtue to suppress; losing nothing but their time, without losing their Patience too, and commonly a great part of that Reverence and Submission they owe to him, of whom the Scripture tells us,* that ev'n of Lots themselves, the whole disposal is his. Nor will he need, for want of knowing what to do when he is alone, to make it his almost daily Employment, to make impertinent Visits, to unsanctify'd Companies, where sometimes he may lose his good Name, often his Innocence, oftner his Zeal, and always his Time.
(pp. 3-5)",,24332,"","""If I had not elsewhere display'd the Evil and Danger of Idleness, and represented it as a thing, which, though we should admit not to be in it self a sin, yet may easily prove a greater mischief than a very great one, by at once tempting the Tempter to tempt us, and exposing the empty Soul, like an uninhabited place, to the next Passion or Temptation that takes the opportunity to seize upon it.""",Empire,2014-07-28 18:19:07 UTC,""
8354,"",Reading,2022-04-26 21:26:45 UTC,"Hereunto adde thoughtes, and words: if one speake and thinke much of beautie, vaine attire, glory, honour, reputation; if he feele in his heart, that often he desireth to be praised, or to insinuate his owne praise, it is most manifest, that the Passion of Pride pricketh him; and so I meane of all other Affections, because the minde doth thinke, and the tongue will speake according to the Passions of the heart: for, as the Ratte running behinde a paynted cloth, betrayeth her selfe; even so, a Passion lurking in the heart, by thoughts and speech discovereth it selfe, according to the common Proverbe, [end page 78] ex abundantia cordis os loquitur, from the aboundance of heart, the tongue speaketh: for as a River abounding with water, must make an inundation, and runne over the bankes; even so, when the heart is overflowen with affections, it must find some passage by the mouth, minde, or actions. And for this cause, I have divers times heard some persons very passionate affirme, that they thought their hearts would have broken, if they had not vented them in some sort, either with spitefull words, or revenging deeds: and that they could do no otherwise than their Passions inforced them.
(pp. 78-9)",,25306,"","""For, as the Ratte running behinde a paynted cloth, betrayeth her selfe; even so, a Passion lurking in the heart, by thoughts and speech discovereth it selfe, according to the common Proverbe, ex abundantia cordis os loquitur, from the aboundance of heart, the tongue speaketh: for as a River abounding with water, must make an inundation, and runne over the bankes; even so, when the heart is overflowen with affections, it must find some passage by the mouth, minde, or actions.""","",2022-04-26 21:26:45 UTC,""