text,updated_at,metaphor,created_at,context,theme,reviewed_on,dictionary,comments,provenance,id,work_id
"In Greece and Rome, I watch'd the public weal,
The purple tyrant trembled at my steel:
Nor did I less o'er private sorrows reign,
And mend the melting heart with softer pain.
On France and you then rose my brightening star,
With social ray--The arts are ne'er at war.
O, as your fire and genius stronger blaze,
As yours are generous Freedom's bolder lays,
Let not the Gallic taste leave yours behind,
In decent manners and in life refined;
Banish the motley mode to tag low verse,
The laughing ballad to the mournful hearse.
When through five acts your hearts have learnt to glow,
Touch'd with the sacred force of honest woe;
O keep the dear impression on your breast,
Nor idly loose it for a wretched jest.",2013-06-28 15:15:47 UTC,"""O keep the dear impression on your breast, / Nor idly loose it for a wretched jest.",2005-05-20 00:00:00 UTC,"","",,Impressions,•C-H lists in Poetry,"Searching ""breast"" and ""impression"" in HDIS (Poetry)",12587,4757
"OLYMPIA.
Forgive
My wavering mind. I want not to retract
My hasty promise. Only give me time,
A little time, till old impressions die;
That I may yield a more devoted heart,
A heart more worthy of a good man's vows.",2009-09-14 19:40:36 UTC,"""Only give me time, / A little time, till old impressions die; / That I may yield a more devoted heart""",2005-05-16 00:00:00 UTC,"","",,Impression,
,"Searching ""impression"" and ""heart"" in HDIS (Poetry)",14323,5331
"BELLAMY.
It must be from a fine Woman then: and not such as are generally reputed so--And it must be a thorough Acquaintance with her too, that will ever make an Impression on my Heart.
(I.i)",2013-06-28 15:29:11 UTC,"""And it must be a thorough Acquaintance with her too, that will ever make an Impression on my Heart.""",2013-06-28 15:29:11 UTC,"Act I, scene i","",,Impressions,"",C-H Lion,21265,7491
"LORD RANDOLPH.
When was it pure of sadness! These black weeds
Express the wonted colour of thy mind,
For ever dark and dismal. Seven long years
Are pass'd, since we were join'd by sacred ties:
Clouds, all the while have hung upon thy brow,
Nor broke, nor parted by one gleam of joy.
Time, that wears out the trace of deepest anguish,
As the sea smooths the prints made in the sand,
Has past o'er thee in vain.
(Act I, p. 8)",2013-06-28 16:22:36 UTC,"""Time, that wears out the trace of deepest anguish, / As the sea smooths the prints made in the sand, / Has past o'er thee in vain.""",2013-06-28 16:22:36 UTC,Act I,"",,Impressions,"",C-H Lion,21270,7492
"PHOEBUS.
Oh! my dear love, quick, quickly drive away
Those boding thoughts which on your quiet prey;
The breed of Fancy, gender'd in the brain,
Nurs'd by the grosser spirits, light, and vain;
The vagrant visions of the sleeping mind,
Which vanish wak'd, nor leave a mark behind.
(II.i, p. 25)",2013-08-26 03:58:19 UTC,"""Oh! my dear love, quick, quickly drive away / Those boding thoughts which on your quiet prey; / The breed of Fancy, gender'd in the brain, / Nurs'd by the grosser spirits, light, and vain; / The vagrant visions of the sleeping mind, / Which vanish wak'd, nor leave a mark behind.""",2013-08-26 03:58:19 UTC,"","",,Impressions,Echoes Shakespeare,ECCO-TCP,22602,7657
"BELVILLE
I tremble at the impression this lovely girl has made upon my heart. My chearfulness has left me, and I am grown insensible even to the delicious plea|sure of making those happy who depend on my pro|tection.
AIR.
Ere bright Rosina met my eyes,
How peaceful pass'd the joyous day!
In rural sports I gain'd the prize,
Each virgin listen'd to my lay.
But now no more I touch the lyre,
No more the rustic sport can please;
I live the slave of fond desire,
Lost to myself, to mirth, and ease.
The tree that in a happier hour
It's boughs extended o'er the plain,
When blasted by the lightning's power,
Nor charms the eye, nor shades the swain.
(p. 26)",2013-08-28 02:50:15 UTC,"""I tremble at the impression this lovely girl has made upon my heart.""",2013-08-28 02:50:15 UTC,"","",,Impressions,"",ECCO-TCP,22613,7660
"CICERO.
Might that be so,
Ruin would lose its name; Exile its terrors,
And Clodius reap no triumph from my fall.
But Heaven that gave a blessing to our bed,
Stampt the great Law of Nature on my heart,
And bound me to it by the sacred ties
Of fatherly affection; can I then
Wed my poor Tullia to disgrace and sorrow,
And to my Boy bequeath the bitter portion
Of Exile, and hereditary ruin?
Rather, just Gods! if so ye deem it fit,
Let me atone for all; on me be pour'd
Your whole collected vengeance, and repay me.
For these dire wrongs, this undeserv'd affliction,
An hundred fold, as heav'nly bounty should,
In blessings on my children.
(pp. 75-6)",2013-09-04 02:12:52 UTC,"""But Heaven that gave a blessing to our bed, / Stampt the great Law of Nature on my heart, / And bound me to it by the sacred ties / Of fatherly affection.""",2013-09-04 02:12:52 UTC,"","",,Impressions,"",LION,22685,7669
"MANDANE.
Yes, Mirvan, yes--Religion wears a mien
In Zamti's person so severely mild,
That the fierce Scythian rests upon his spear,
And wonders what he feels.--Such is the charm
Of heart-felt virtue; such is nature's force
That speaks abroad, and in rude northern hearts
Can stamp the image of an awful God.
From that source springs some hope:--Wretch that I am!
Hope idly flutters on my trembling tongue,
While melancholy brooding o'er her wrongs,
Lays waste the mind with horror and despair.
--What noise is that?--
(I, p. 5)",2013-11-18 04:48:25 UTC,"""Such is the charm / Of heart-felt virtue; such is nature's force / That speaks abroad, and in rude northern hearts / Can stamp the image of an awful God.""",2013-11-18 04:48:25 UTC,Act I,"",,Impressions,"",LION,23239,7778
"EGBERT.
I fear not
Your anger, Lord!--nay, I will gladly die,
If, dying, on your mind I can impress
Just horror for the--
(p. 66)",2014-03-12 04:41:58 UTC,"""I fear not / Your anger, Lord!--nay, I will gladly die, / If, dying, on your mind I can impress / Just horror for the--""",2014-03-12 04:41:58 UTC,"","",,Impressions,"",ECCO-TCP,23619,7836
"SELIM.
He bade me tell thee,
That in his Heart indelibly are stamp'd
His Father's Wrongs, and Thine: That he but waits
'Till awful Justice may unsheath her Sword,
And Lust and Murder tremble at her Frown!
'That till th' Arrival of that happy Hour,
Deep in his Soul the hidden Fire shall glow,
And his Breast labour with the great Revenge!
(p. 46)",2014-03-12 17:41:10 UTC,"""He bade me tell thee, / That in his Heart indelibly are stamp'd / His Father's Wrongs, and Thine.""",2014-03-12 17:41:10 UTC,"","",,Impressions,"",ECCO-TCP,23652,7841