text,updated_at,metaphor,created_at,context,theme,reviewed_on,dictionary,comments,provenance,id,work_id
"Where is Mirtillo? where?
The Nymph has done him wrong
To let him wait so long;
But soon a sure Revenge he'll take,
What e'er Resistance she can make,
And rifle the rich Cabinet, tho' barr'd up ne'er so strong.
But see! he comes! and in good Time he's here,
For now the chast Amynta does appear,
And on her Eye-lid hangs a Tear;
What does it now do there?
But Joy as well as Grief can bring
That Moisture from its Briny Spring.
Two Fountains from that Spring there go,
One for Pleasure, one for Woe,
Delight, like Pain, does oft unruly grow,
And in the Rapid Course its Banks o'erflow.
But now the Drop is fall'n, and in its Place
A Blush does mount the Face,
And adds to it one more Resistless Grace;
Tho' he that saw her just before,
Wou'd swear that Heav'n cou'd add no more.
Mirtillo sees her pleasing Care,
And his Instinctive Heart
In the Transporting Anguish has its Part:
Such Perfect Bliss Mortality has scarce the Power to bear,
Infirmity will enter there,
And in disorder'd Bounds of Joy appear:
Souls only can, sedate, receive
Th'Impression such a vast Delight does give;
It is almost too bright to look upon and Live!
So pure a Love does oft o'er pow'r the Sense,
And tho' we fetch Desire and Vigor thence,
Makes us sometimes, resign to very Impotence.
Fixt on her Eyes, he cou'd for ever gaze!
But Time reproves these vain Delays,
And his own Genius whispers him--Be gone!--
Suggesting something Nobler coming on
In the dear Contemplation of Anon--
Anon! Anon!",2009-09-14 19:35:06 UTC,"""Souls only can, sedate, receive / Th'Impression such a vast Delight does give""",2005-05-17 00:00:00 UTC,Stanza VII,"",,Impression,"","Searching ""soul"" and ""impression"" in HDIS (Poetry)",10588,4109
"But though we might possibly have all our sensations without them, yet perhaps it may be thought easier to conceive and explain the manner of their production, by supposing external bodies in their likeness rather than otherwise; and so it might be at least probable there are such things as bodies that excite their ideas in our minds. But neither can this be said; for though we give the materialists their external bodies, they by their own confession are never the nearer knowing how our ideas are produced: since they own themselves unable to comprehend in what manner body can act upon spirit, or how it is possible it should imprint any idea in the mind. Hence it is evident the production of ideas or sensations in our minds, can be no reason why we should suppose matter or corporeal substances, since that is acknowledged to remain equally inexplicable with, or without this supposition. If therefore it were possible for bodies to exist without the mind, yet to hold they do so, must needs be a very precarious opinion; since it is to suppose, without any reason at all, that God has created innumerable beings that are entirely useless, and serve to no manner of purpose.
(Part I, §19, p. 49)",2012-03-02 16:21:40 UTC,"""But neither can this be said; for though we give the materialists their external bodies, they by their own confession are never the nearer knowing how our ideas are produced: since they own themselves unable to comprehend in what manner body can act upon spirit, or how it is possible it should imprint any idea in the mind.""",2004-02-18 00:00:00 UTC,"","",2012-03-02,Impressions,•Republished in 1734 in London. Editor uses this second edition. ,Past Masters,10631,4138
"Oft have I try'd, with unavailing Care,
To trace some Image of the much-lov'd Fair;
But still my Numbers ineffectual prov'd,
And rather shew'd how much, than whom, I lov'd:
But thy unerring Hands, with matchless Art,
Have shewn my Eyes th'Impression in my Heart;
The bright Idea both exists and lives,
Such vital Heat thy Genial Pencil gives:
Whose daring Point, not to the Face confin'd,
Can penetrate the Heart, and paint the Mind.
Others some faint Resemblance may express,
Which, as 'tis drawn by Chance, we find by Guess.
Thy Pictures raise no Doubts, when brought to View,
At once they're known, and seem to know us too.
Transcendent Artist! How compleat thy Skill!
Thy Pow'r to act, is equal to thy Will.
Nature and Art, in thee, alike contend,
Not to oppose each other, but befriend:
For what thy Fancy has with Fire design'd,
Is by thy Skill, both temper'd and refin'd.
As in thy Pictures, Light consents with Shade,
And, each, to other is subservient made,
Judgment and Genius so concur in thee,
And both unite in perfect Harmony.",2009-09-14 19:35:09 UTC,"""But thy unerring Hands, with matchless Art / Have shewn my Eyes th'Impression in my Heart;""",2005-05-16 00:00:00 UTC,"","",,Impression,"","Searching ""heart"" and ""impression"" in HDIS (Poetry); found again ""idea""",10657,4145
"Reflection is the last and greatest Bliss:
When turning backwards with inverted Eyes,
The Soul it self and all its Charms, surveys,
The deep Impressions of Coelestial Grace
And Image of the Godhead: no alloy
Of Flesh, its sprightly Beauties can destroy;
Nor Death nor Fate can snatch the lasting Joy.
Through ev'ry Limb the active Spirit flows;
Diffusing Life and Vigour as it goes,
But is it self unmixt, and free from Dross;
Reflected on its glitt'ring Form it views
All Nature's Works, with eager Steps persues
The Species as they fly, and subtly draws
From single Objects universal Laws:
Thus whilst great Jove the whirling Engine guides,
And o'er the Times and rolling Year presides:
Still, as he turns the rapid Wheels of Chance,
Himself immortal and unchang'd remains,
And when the empty Scene of Nature cloys,
Sinks in the Godhead, and himself enjoys.",2013-06-26 17:25:06 UTC,"""Reflection is the last and greatest Bliss: / When turning backwards with inverted Eyes, / The Soul it self and all its Charms, surveys, / The deep Impressions of Coelestial Grace /
And Image of the Godhead.""",2005-05-17 00:00:00 UTC,"","",,Eye,•Crazy! Eye turned round in its socket.,"Searching in HDIS (Poetry); found again searching ""soul"" and ""impression""",10658,4141
"Fair Italy the wand'ring Youth invites,
A Country plac'd beyond the Alpine Heights,
Extended far: two neighb'ring Seas divide,
And interposing break the adverse Tide:
Here Rome, once Mistress of the World, the Seat
Of Godlike Men, divinely fair and great,
Totters and droops: no Footstep now remains
Of her first State, but Superstition reigns;
Her Sons, unmindful of their noble Race,
And Latian Blood, degenerate and base,
Sink in soft Pleasure, and inglorious Ease;
Whilst with Surprize and Wonder thou survey'st
The sacred Ruins and prodigious Waft:
And read'st its State and Glory in its Fall,
Let the fam'd Annals to thy Mind recal
The vast Idea of its former Pow'r,
Think on the Scipio's and their high Deserts:
Think on the Fabii fam'd for peaceful Arts:
And let the first and noblest Theme of Fame,
Julius, a mighty and immortal Name,
In lovely Scenes his Godlike Acts renew,
And open all his Triumphs to thy View:
How with victorious Arms he bravely tam'd
The proud Iberian Race, for Valour fam'd,
The swarthy African, and haughty Gaul,
And Envy, fatal Foe! more fear'd than all,
From far Iulus Race the Hero came,
Of whom he took his Nature and his Name.
Great was his Courage, nor his Candour less,
Dreadful in War, and merciful in Peace.
Fair Italy some Beauties still can boast,
The small Remains of all her Grandeur lost:
Tho' various Realms and States the Land divide,
Yet still the Men retain their former Pride,
Hardy and stout, instructed how to deal
In subtle Arts can cringe and wheedle well,
Assuming various Shapes in all excel:
Smooth are their Tongues, for soft persuasion made,
Their Wisdom in a thousand Form display'd:
Large is their Soul, and capable to take
The first Impression's Gain or Pleasure make:
Whate'er they wish, they seldom wish in vain,
But still persue and labour to attain:
Trouble, and Toil, and Pain, they gladly bear,
And when they hope, 'tis seldom they despair:
Frugal and close, confin'd to narrow Bounds,
They manage Fortune and correct her Frowns;
The happy Genius of Augustus reign,
Sometimes revives, and charms the World again:
The Muse revisits her once tuneful Race,
And mighty Phoebus all the God displays.",2009-09-14 19:35:10 UTC,"""Large is their Soul, and capable to take / The first Impression's Gain or Pleasure make""",2005-05-17 00:00:00 UTC,"","",,Impression,"","Searching ""soul"" and ""impression"" in HDIS (Poetry)",10661,4141
"That fatal Night the Duke felt hostile Fires in his Breast, Love was entred with all his dreadful Artillery; he took possession in a moment of the Avenues that lead to the Heart! neither did the resistance he found there serve for any thing but to make his Conquest more illustrious. The Duke try'd every corner of his uneasie Bed! whether shut or open, Charlot was still before his Eyes! his Lips and Face retain'd the dear Impression of her Kisses! the Idea of her innocent and charming Touches, wander'd o'er his Mind! he wish'd again to be so bless'd, but then, with a deep and dreadful Sigh, he remembred who she was, the Daughter of his Friend! of a Friend who had at his Death left the charge of her Education to him! his Treaty with the Princess Dowager, wou'd not admit
him to think of marrying of her, Ambition came in to rescue him (in that particular) from the Arms of Love. To possess her without, was a villanous detestable Thought! but not to possess her at all, was loss of Life! was Death inevitable! Not able to gain one wink of Sleep, he arose with the first Dawn, and posted back to Angela. He hop'd the hurry of Business, and the Pleasures of the Court, wou'd stifle so guilty a Passion; he was too well perswaded of his Distemper, the Symptoms were right, the Malignity was upon him! he was regularly possess'd! Love, in all its forms, had took in that formidable Heart of his! he began to be jealous of his Son, whom he had always design'd for Charlot's Husband; he cou'd not bear the thoughts that he shou'd be belov'd by her, tho' all beautiful, as the lovely Youth was. She had never had any tender Inclinations for him, nothing that exceeded the warmth of a Sister's love! whether it were that he were designed for, or that the Precepts of Education had warn'd her from too precipitate a liking: She was bred up with him, accustom'd to his Charms, they made no impression upon her Heart! neither was the Youth more sensible. The Duke cou'd distress neither of 'em by his love of that side, but this he was not so happy to know. He wrote up for the young Lord to come to Court, and gave immediate orders for forming his Equipage, that he might be sent to Travel: Mean time Charlot was never from his Thoughts. Who knows not the violence of beginning Love! especially a Love that we hold opposite to our Interest and Duty? 'Tis an unreasonable excess of Desire, which enters swiftly, but departs slowly.
(pp. 58-9)",2013-06-21 03:25:25 UTC,"""The Duke try'd every corner of his uneasie Bed! whether shut or open, Charlot was still before his Eyes! his Lips and Face retain'd the dear Impression of her Kisses! the Idea of her innocent and charming Touches, wander'd o'er his Mind!""",2013-06-21 03:25:25 UTC,"","",,Impressions,"","Searching ""mind"" in C-H Lion",21076,4111
"That fatal Night the Duke felt hostile Fires in his Breast, Love was entred with all his dreadful Artillery; he took possession in a moment of the Avenues that lead to the Heart! neither did the resistance he found there serve for any thing but to make his Conquest more illustrious. The Duke try'd every corner of his uneasie Bed! whether shut or open, Charlot was still before his Eyes! his Lips and Face retain'd the dear Impression of her Kisses! the Idea of her innocent and charming Touches, wander'd o'er his Mind! he wish'd again to be so bless'd, but then, with a deep and dreadful Sigh, he remembred who she was, the Daughter of his Friend! of a Friend who had at his Death left the charge of her Education to him! his Treaty with the Princess Dowager, wou'd not admit
him to think of marrying of her, Ambition came in to rescue him (in that particular) from the Arms of Love. To possess her without, was a villanous detestable Thought! but not to possess her at all, was loss of Life! was Death inevitable! Not able to gain one wink of Sleep, he arose with the first Dawn, and posted back to Angela. He hop'd the hurry of Business, and the Pleasures of the Court, wou'd stifle so guilty a Passion; he was too well perswaded of his Distemper, the Symptoms were right, the Malignity was upon him! he was regularly possess'd! Love, in all its forms, had took in that formidable Heart of his! he began to be jealous of his Son, whom he had always design'd for Charlot's Husband; he cou'd not bear the thoughts that he shou'd be belov'd by her, tho' all beautiful, as the lovely Youth was. She had never had any tender Inclinations for him, nothing that exceeded the warmth of a Sister's love! whether it were that he were designed for, or that the Precepts of Education had warn'd her from too precipitate a liking: She was bred up with him, accustom'd to his Charms, they made no impression upon her Heart! neither was the Youth more sensible. The Duke cou'd distress neither of 'em by his love of that side, but this he was not so happy to know. He wrote up for the young Lord to come to Court, and gave immediate orders for forming his Equipage, that he might be sent to Travel: Mean time Charlot was never from his Thoughts. Who knows not the violence of beginning Love! especially a Love that we hold opposite to our Interest and Duty? 'Tis an unreasonable excess of Desire, which enters swiftly, but departs slowly.
(pp. 58-9)",2013-06-21 03:26:17 UTC,"""She was bred up with him, accustom'd to his Charms, they made no impression upon her Heart!""",2013-06-21 03:26:17 UTC,"","",,Impressions,"","Searching ""mind"" in C-H Lion",21077,4111
"When I reflect upon the many Nights I have sat up for some Months last past in the greatest Anxiety for the Good of my Neighbours and Contemporaries, it is no small Discouragement to me, to see how slow a Progress I make in the Reformation of the World. But indeed I must do my Female Readers the Justice to own, that their tender Hearts are much more susceptible of good Impressions, than the Minds of the other Sex. Business and Ambition take up Men's Thoughts too much to leave Room for Philosophy: But if you speak to Women in a Style and Manner proper to approach them, they never fail to improve by your Counsel. I shall therefore for the future turn my Thoughts more particularly to their Service, and study the best Methods to adorn their Persons, and inform their Minds in the justest Methods to make them what Nature designed them, the most beauteous Objects of our Eyes, and the most agreeable Companions of our Lives. But when I say this, I must not omit at the same Time to look into their Errors and Mistakes, that being the readiest Way to the intended End of adorning and instructing them. It must be acknowledged, That the very Inadvertencies of this Sex are owing to the other; for if Men were not Flatterers, Women could not fall into that general Cause of all their Follies, and our Misfortunes, their Love of Flattery. Were the Commendation of these agreeable Creatures built upon its proper Foundation, the higher we raised their Opinion of themselves, the greater would be the Advantage to our Sex; but all the Topick of Praise is drawn from very senseless and extravagant Idea's we pretend we have of their Beauty and Perfection. Thus when a young Man falls in Love with a young Woman, from that Moment she is no more Mrs. Alice such a one, born of such a Father, and educated by such a Mother, but from the first Minute that he cast his Eye upon her with Desire, he conceives a Doubt in his Mind, What Heavenly Power gave so unexpected a Blow to an Heart that was ever before untouched. But who can resist Fate and Destiny, which are lodged in Mrs. Alice's Eyes? After which he desires Orders accordingly, Whether he is to live or breath; the Smile or Frown of his Goddess is the only Thing that can now either save or destroy him. By this Means, the well-humoured Girl, that would have romped with him before she received this Declaration, assumes a State suitable to the Majesty he has given her, and treats him as the Vassal he calls himself. The Girl's Head is immediately turned by having the Power of Life and Death, and takes Care to suit every Motion and Air to her new Sovereignty. After he has placed himself at this Distance, he must never hope to recover his former Familiarity, till she has had the Addresses of another, and found them less sincere.
(III, pp. 121-3; cf. II, pp. 297-8 in Bond ed.)",2014-03-02 19:53:49 UTC,"""But indeed I must do my Female Readers the Justice to own, that their tender Hearts are much more susceptible of good Impressions, than the Minds of the other Sex.""",2014-03-02 19:53:49 UTC,"","",,Impressions,"",ECCO-TCP,23422,7813
"The first Sense of Sorrow I ever knew was upon the Death of my Father, at which Time I was not quite Five Years of Age; but was rather amazed at what all the House meant, than possessed with a real Understanding why no Body was willing to play with me. I remember I went into the Room where his Body lay, and my Mother sate weeping alone by it. I had my Battledore in my Hand, and fell a beating the Coffin, and calling Papa; for I know not how I had some slight Idea that he was locked up there. My Mother catched me in her Arms, and transported beyond all Patience of the silent Grief she was before in, she almost smothered me in her Embrace, and told me in a Flood of Tears, Papa could not hear me, and would play with me no more, for they were going to put him under Ground, whence he could never come to us again. She was a very beautiful Woman, of a noble Spirit, and there was a Dignity in her Grief amidst all the Wildness of her Transport, which, methought, struck me with an Instinct of Sorrow, which, before I was sensible of what it was to grieve, seized my very Soul, and has made Pity the Weakness of my Heart ever since. The Mind in Infancy is, methinks, like the Body in Embrio, and receives Impressions so forcible, that they are as hard to be removed by Reason, as any Mark with which a Child is born is to be taken away by any future Application. Hence it is, that Good-Nature in me is no Merit; but having been so frequently over-whelmed with her Tears before I knew the Cause of any Affliction, or could draw Defences from my own Judgment, I imbibed Commiseration, Remorse, and an unmanly Gentleness of Mind, which has since insnared me into Ten Thousand Calamities, and from whence I can reap no Advantage, except it be, that in such an Humour as I am now in, I can the better indulge my self, in the Softnesses of Humanity, and enjoy that sweet Anxiety which arises from the Memory of past Afflictions.
(III, pp. 331-2; cf. II, pp. 483-4 in Bond ed.)",2014-03-02 20:25:23 UTC,"""The Mind in Infancy is, methinks, like the Body in Embrio, and receives Impressions so forcible, that they are as hard to be removed by Reason, as any Mark with which a Child is born is to be taken away by any future Application.""",2014-03-02 20:25:23 UTC,"","",,Impressions,INTEREST: first impressions as birthmarks? ,ECCO-TCP,23430,7821
"OF all the Evils under the Sun, that of making Vice commendable is the greatest: For it seems to be the Basis of Society, that Applause and Contempt should be always given to proper Objects. But in this Age we behold Things for which we ought to have an Abhorrence, not only received without Disdain, but even valued as Motives of Emulation. This is naturally the Destruction of Simplicity of Manners, Openness of Heart, and Generosity of Temper. When one gives ones self the Liberty to range, and run over in ones Thoughts the different Genius's of Men which one meets in the World, one cannot but observe, that most of the Indirection and Artifice which is used among Men, does not proceed so much from a Degeneracy in Nature, as an Affectation of appearing Men of Consequence by such Practices. By this Means it is, that a cunning Man is so far from being ashamed of being esteemed such, that he secretly rejoices in it. It has been a Sort of Maxim, That the greatest Art is to conceal Art; but I know not how, among some People we meet with, their greatest Cunning is to appear cunning. There is Polypragmon makes it the whole Business of his Life to be thought a cunning Fellow, and thinks it a much greater Character to be terrible than agreeable. When it has once enter'd into a Man's Head to have an Ambition to be thought crafty, all other Evils are necessary Consequences. To deceive, is the immediate Endeavour of him who is proud of the Capacity of doing it. It is certain, Polypragmon does all the Ill he possibly can, but pretends to much more than he performs. He is contented in his own Thoughts, and hugs himself in his Closet, that though he is locked up there and doing nothing, the World does not know but that he is doing Mischief. To favour this Suspicion, he gives Half-Looks and Shrugs in his general Behaviour, to give you to understand that you don't know what he means. He is also wonderfully adverbial in his Expressions, and breaks off with a Perhaps and a Nod of the Head, upon Matters of the most indifferent Nature. It is a mighty Practice with Men of this Genius to avoid frequent Appearance in Publick, and to be as mysterious as possible when they do come into Company. There is nothing to be done, according to them, the common Way; and let the Matter in Hand be what it will, it must be carried with an Air of Importance, and transacted, if we may so speak, with an ostentatious Secrecy. These are your Persons of long Heads, who would fain make the World believe their Thoughts and Idea's are very much superior to their Neighbours, and do not value what these their Neighbours think of them, provided they do not reckon them Fools. These have such a Romantick Touch in Business, that they hate to perform any Thing like other Men. Were it in their Choice, they had rather bring their Purposes to bear by over-reaching the Persons they deal with, than by a plain and simple Manner. They make Difficulties for the Honour of surmounting them. Polypragmon is eternally busied after this Manner, with no other Prospect than that he is in Hopes to be thought the most cunning of all Men, and fears the Imputation of Want of Understanding much more than that of the Abuse of it. But alas! How contemptible is such an Ambition, which is the very Reverse of all that is truly laudable; and the very Contradiction to the only Means to a just Reputation, Simplicity of Manners? Cunning can in no Circumstance imaginable be a Quality worthy a Man, except in his own Defence, and meerly to conceal himself from such as are so; and in such Cases it is no longer Craft, but Wisdom. The monstrous Affectation of being thought artful, immediately kills all Thoughts of Humanity and Goodness, and gives Men a Sense of the soft Affections and Impulses of the Mind (which are imprinted in us for our mutual Advantage and Succour) as of meer Weaknesses and Follies. According to the Men of Cunning, you are to put off the Nature of a Man as fast as you can, and acquire that of a Daemon, as if it were a more eligible Character to be a powerful Enemy, than an able Friend. But it ought to be a Mortification to Men affected this Way, that there wants but little more than Instinct to be considerable in it; for when a Man has arrived at being very bad in his Inclination, he has not much more to do, but to conceal himself, and he may revenge, cheat, and deceive, without much Employment for Understanding, and go on with great Chearfulness with the high Applause of being a prodigious cunning Fellow. But indeed, when we arrive at that Pitch of false Taste, as not to think Cunning a contemptible Quality, it is, methinks, a very great Injustice that Pickpockets are had in so little Veneration, who must be admirably well turned, not only for the Theoretick, but also the Practical Behaviour of cunning Fellows. After all the Endeavour of this Family of Men, whom we call cunning, their whole Work falls to Pieces, if others will lay down all Esteem for such Artifices, and treat it as an unmanly Quality, which they forbear to practise only because they abhor it. When the Spider is ranging in the different Apartments of his Web, it is true that he only can weave so fine a Thread; but it is in the Power of the meerest Drone that has Wings to fly through and destroy it.
(IV, pp. 6-9; cf. III, pp. 32-5 in Bond ed.)",2014-03-02 20:33:37 UTC,"""The monstrous Affectation of being thought artful, immediately kills all Thoughts of Humanity and Goodness, and gives Men a Sense of the soft Affections and Impulses of the Mind (which are imprinted in us for our mutual Advantage and Succour) as of meer Weaknesses and Follies.""",2014-03-02 20:33:04 UTC,"","",,Impressions,"",ECCO-TCP,23432,7823