work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context
3304,Refinement,"Searching ""mind"" and ""sterling"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2005-04-19 00:00:00 UTC,"This must be then the issue, where our Love,
Does not together with our Nuptials move.
Possessions can't for fickle Joy provide.
When Love the end of Living, is Destroy'd.
Alas! we're all mistaken in the Kind,
A happy Man is measur'd by the Mind.
Suppose him born to all the Pomp of Life;
Admit he's match'd to Beauty in a Wife,
These are but Pageants, which a while may please,
They may Divert him, but procure no Ease.
That Grandeur is no compound of our Bliss,
The rugged Bosoms of the Great confess.
The gilded Monarch's Sable stands within,
His Glory to his Troubles, but a Shrine:
His Cares, his Jealousies, Nocturnal Frights,
Imbitter all his Joys and false Delights.
His toiling Head with Grief a Crown must bear,
Whilst he still starts and grasps, to hold it there.
And thus all Princes to this Hell we trace,
They Reign without, and are but Kings by Place.
But lest ambitious Maids in Scorn relate,
This is the utmost Tyranny of Fate;
That such Seditious disagreeing Pairs,
Are scarcely known in Centuries of Years.
We'll grant, (which yet no less Misfortune breeds)
The Woman loves the Golden Man she Weds.
We'll think she brings with her Estate a Mind,
Pure as her Sterling, from it's Dross Refin'd.
Yet this is so unlikely to succeed,
It Murders what it first design'd to Feed.
He strait concludes her Passion a Pretence,
Condemns her Soul, and lays the Crime on Sense.
Argues, she only chose to be his Bride,
To serve and gratify her costly Pride.
But still we'll give this Topick larger Law,
We'll say an equal Passion both does draw.
We will suppose them both enclin'd to Love.
We'll call her Venus, and we'll stile him Jove;
Yet through the Tides of Business in his Head,
He must neglect, and at length slight her Bed.
His peeping Passion, like a feeble Sun,
Mingled with Show'rs of Rain, will soon be gone.
And if perhaps there's left some poor Remains,
Like Northern Gold, 'tis in penurious Veins.
Diffus'd and scatter'd o'er the barren Land,
Amidst vast heaps of Lead and worthless Sand.
This must be then a sad Reward of Love,
When he thus senseless of her Choice do's prove.
Her Am'rous Courage ne'er can long be bold,
That finds herself out-rival'd by her Gold.
Both their Affections to the Deep are sent,
He sinks through Weight, and she through Discontent.
Their Riches then shew their defect of Pow'r,
That can't create what Want do's oft procure.
In thought of Wealth, he can't Intomb his Smart,
When sullen Love preys on his stubborn Heart.
If crouded Chests and glutted Coffers can
Restore Contentment to the anxious Man;
Possess'd of those, if he from Pain is free,
A troubled, may be call'd a quiet Sea:
Because there's Pearl and Amber on the Shoars,
And thus it's strangely Silenc'd when it Roars.",,8613,•What to do with this sort of sealing.
•I've included twice: Silver and Dross.,"""We'll think she brings with her Estate a Mind, / Pure as her Sterling, from it's Dross Refin'd.""",Metal,2009-09-14 19:33:40 UTC,""
3957,"",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2005-04-06 00:00:00 UTC,"He paused a while, stood silent in his mood;
For yet his rage was boiling in his blood:
But soon his tender mind the impression felt,
As softest metals are not slow to melt,
And pity soonest runs in gentle minds:
Then reasons with himself; and first he finds
His passion cast a mist before his sense,
And either made, or magnified, the offence.
Offence! of what? to whom? who judged the cause?
The prisoner freed himself by Nature's laws:
Born free, he sought his right; the man he freed
Was perjured, but his love excused the deed:
Thus pondering, he looked under with his eyes,
And saw the women's tears, and heard their cries;
Which moved compassion more: he shook his head,
And softly sighing, to himself he said:--
(p. 598, ll. 328-43)",,10310,"John Dryden. Ed. Keith Walker Oxford and New York: Oxford UP, 1987.","""As softest metals are not slow to melt, / And pity soonest runs in gentle minds:""",Metal,2009-09-14 19:34:53 UTC,Book II
3975,"","Searching ""breast"" and ""steel"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2005-06-13 00:00:00 UTC,"O Soul Seraphick, teach us how we may
Thy Praise adapted to thy worth display:
For who can Merit more? or who enough can pay?
Earth was unworthy thy aspiring view,
Sublimer Objects were reserv'd for you.
Thence nothing mean obtrudes on thy design,
Thy Style is equal to thy Theme Divine,
All Heavenly great, and more than Masculine.
Tho' neither Vernal Bloom, nor Summer's Rose
Their opening Beauties could to Thee disclose:
Tho' Nature's curious Characters which we
Exactly view, were all eras'd to Thee.
Yet Heav'n stood Witness to thy piercing Sight;
Below was Darkness, but Above was Light.
Thy Soul was Brightness all; nor could he stay
In lower Night, and such a want of Day:
But wing'd aloft, from sordid Earth retires
To higher Glory, and his kindred Fires;
Like an unhooded Hawk, who loose to prey,
With open Eyes pursues the Ætherial way.
There, happy Soul, assume thy destin'd place,
And in yon Sphere begin thy glorious race:
That Sphere, which Lucifer did once Disgrace.
Or, if amongst the Laurell'd Heads there be,
A Mansion in the Sky reserv'd for Thee;
There, Ruler of thy Orb, aloft appear,
And rowl with Homer in the brightest Sphere.
To whom Calliope has joyn'd thy Name,
And recompenc'd thy Fortunes with his Fame:
Tho' she (forgive our freedom!) some times flows;
In Lines too rugged, and a-kin to Prose.
When Scope is granted to your Speech and Thought,
Verse with a lively smoothness should be Wrote.
Like some fair Planet thy Majestick Song,
Should move with ease and Sparkle as it rowl'd along.
Like Waller's Muse, who, though inchain'd by Rhyme,
Taught Wondring Poets to keep even Chime.
Harmonious Waller's praise inflames my Breast,
Waller, more sweet and Courtly than the rest
Of Poets, no unmanly Turns pursues,
Rash Errors of an injudicious Muse.
Such Wit, like Lightning, for a while looks gay;
Just gilds the place, and vanishes away.
In one continued blaze he upwards sprung,
Like those Seraphick Flames of which he Sung.
If, Cromwell, he laments thy mighty Fall,
Nature attending Weeps at the great Funeral.
Or if his Muse with joyful Triumph brings,
The Monarch to his ancient Throne; or Sings
Batavians worsted on the Conquer'd Main,
Fleets flying, and Advent'rous Opdam Slain;
Then Rome and Athens to his Song repair,
With Brittish Graces Smiling on his care,
Divinely Charming in a Dress so fair.
As Squadrons in well Marshal'd Order fill,
The Flandrian Plains, and speak no vulgar Skill:
So rank'd is every line, each Sentence such,
No Word is wanting, and no Word's too much.
As Pearls in Gold with their own lustre shine,
The Substance precious, and the Work Divine.
So did his Words his beauteous Thoughts enchase,
Both shone and sparkled with unborrow'd Grace,
A mighty value in a little space.
So the Venusian Clio sung of Old,
When lofty acts in well-chose Phrase she told.
But Rome's aspiring Lyrick mov'd us less,
Sung not so moving, tho' with more success.
O Sacharissa, what could steel thy breast,
To rob the charming Waller of his rest?
To send him murm'ring through the Cypress Grove,
In strains lamenting his Neglected Love.
The attentive Forest did his Grief partake,
And Sympathizing Okes their knotted Branches shake.
Each Nymph, tho' coy, to pity would incline,
And every stubborn Heart was mov'd but Thine.
Hence forth be thou to future Ages known,
Like Niobe, a Monument of Stone.",,10316,•Later version of poem in Poems (1710),"""O Sacharissa, what could steel thy breast, / To rob the charming Waller of his rest?""",Metal,2009-09-14 19:34:53 UTC,""
3997,"","Searching ""heart"" and ""silver"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2005-04-17 00:00:00 UTC,"Could pious Paul desire that dreadful State,
To be anathemiz'd, or separate
From Jesus Christ, his high esteemed Lord,
For Isr'elites, to whom the Heavenly Word,
The Promises and Law, did appertain,
The People unto whom the Cov'nants came,
His Kindred in the Flesh? Then how can I
Be unconcern'd for thee, my near Ally?
No, no; for Love, the Universal Love,
Which tenderly doth visit from above,
Desires the good of all; takes no delight
That Sinners die in Sin, but doth invite
All to return to Him, and Live; for He
Hath promis'd their Iniquity shall be
Forgotten, they in Righteousness shall live;
And He, to them that overcomes, will give
A Crown of Life; yea, they shall splendidly
Be cloath'd with Robes of Immortality.
Consider well these things, my Friend, and learn
To know what chiefly is thy great Concern;
That Noble Off-spring of the Deity,
Why should it be seduc'd with Vanity?
O come, and in true lowliness of Mind,
Receive Instruction! Seek, and ye shall find,
Is a Sufficient Warrant to begin
To seek the piece of Silver, hid within
The House, thy Heart; Redeem thy precious Time,
And find it out. O let thy Mind incline
Unto the Voice, that doth in secret say,
As one behind thee, This is Wisdom's Way,
Walk in it; this will lead to lasting Joys;
Despise them not for transitory Toys.
Aim'st thou at Honour? Know, a sudden Puff
Blasts it, and often leaves a Stinking Snuff.
Ah, see'st thou not, that here all vain Renown
Is dash'd and disannulled with a Frown?
Seek Honour from above, and fear the Lord,
And hearken to his holy living Word,
Hid in thy Heart, that frequently reproves:
Wisdom rebukes, and chastens whom she loves.
But where there's no Reproof, there's cause of fear,
Lest that the Holy One cease striving there:
Such may too late bewail themselves, and say,
O that I might be spar'd another Day!
What can a wounded Spirit satiate,
When Soul and Body must be separate?
Whilst therefore Time doth unto thee remain,
Take up the Cross, and own that holy Name,
Christ crucify'd, and risen from the Grave,
Whose Life's the Light of Men, that comes to save.
But what avails to read the History!
In silence learn to know the Mystery:
For inwardly the Heart's defil'd with Sin,
Therefore Salvation must be wrought within,
By that which humbles, and that boweth down
To Judgment; first the Cross, and then the Crown.
The Word is as a Fire to purify
The Heart of Man from all Iniquity,
Before it be a Word of Consolation,
And bring the Soul glad tidings of Salvation.
All this (I hope) thou know'st; but he that knows it
Is not thereby approv'd, but he that does it:
The Doer of the Word is Justify'd,
Because he by the same is Sanctify'd.
Slight not the day of small things, lest there be
Greater with-holden and conceal'd from thee.
Was it not said, when Ephr'im was a Child,
I loved him (that's lowly, meek, and mild?)
O be not high and lofty, but come down,
With quick Zacheus, if thou'lt gain the Crown
Of Life and Peace! Hark, doth not Jesus say,
Salvation's come unto thy House this day?
If thou'lt receive it, cast it not away.
1680.
(pp. 100-1, ll. 1-73)",,10378,"•Lots of inwardness in this poem. Silver, Voice, living Word (all in the heart)","""To seek the piece of Silver, hid within / The House, thy Heart; Redeem thy precious Time, / And find it out.""",Metal,2009-09-14 19:34:56 UTC,I've included the entire poem
3999,Inwardness; Refinement,"Searching ""heart"" and ""dross"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2005-07-19 00:00:00 UTC,"O love! Thou Substance of the Royal Law,
Let thy sweet Influencing Power draw
Our troubled Hearts, in true Humility,
To wait on thee with holy Fervency:
For thou our Souls hast often visited,
That we might, by thy tender hand, be led
From Darkness unto Light; from Enmity,
Strife and Contention, unto Unity,
In Undefiled, in Unfeigned Love;
Which, tho' it may in Gentleness reprove,
Or otherwise instruct, it covers all
Faults and Offences; yea, if any fall
Through Weakness, it bears up with ready Hand,
And lends a Shoulder, till such learn to stand,
And walk more strongly: For it joys to see
Brethren to dwell in perfect Unity,
Only Contending who may most be found
In Lowliness, that Love may more abound.
But, ah, 'tis Hatred, Wrath, Revenge, and Strife,
Discovers Faults, strikes at the very Life;
Provoking oft one seeming Friend or Brother,
To bite, despise, if not devour another,
For empty Trifles; so that Vanity
Becomes Vexatious, and Perplexity
Of Spirit: For, as well observ'd by one,
All things are Vanity below the Sun;
The Sun of Righteousness, which when it shines
With its Resplendent Conqu'ring Ray, refines
The drossy Nature; rightly purifies
The Heart, consuming all Impurities;
Whereby, at last, the Enmity is slain,
And Love exalted over all to Reign.
Great Prince of Peace! Instruct our Souls to wait
To be Establish'd in this happy State;
Where Joys abound, and Enmity does cease,
And Charity withal doth still increase;
That, with thy dear Redeemed Ones, we may
Walk Hand in Hand in Sion's blessed Way;
Where no Iniquity can e'er be found,
Nor Love wax cold, but more and more abound;
Yea, Love that thinks no Evil, but doth seek
The Good of all, and teacheth to be meek;
Not easily provoked, but in Peace
With all: Here Happiness shall still increase.
Then may our cheerful Souls triumph, and sing
Pure, holy, living Praise to Salem's King.
1679.",,10380,"","""The Sun of Righteousness, which when it shines / With its Resplendent Conqu'ring Ray, refines / The drossy Nature; rightly purifies / The Heart, consuming all Impurities.""","",2009-09-14 19:34:56 UTC,I've included the entire poem
4010,"","Searching ""mind"" and ""allay"" (""alloy"") in HDIS (Poetry)",2005-04-14 00:00:00 UTC,"O let the Earth her great Creator bless,
And all the Wonders of his Pow'r confess:
From Pole to Pole, let her resound his Praise;
Around her Globe let the glad Accents fly,
Till they are echo'd by the neighbouring Skie:
To all the list'ning Worlds above
Let her proclaim aloud
The blest Effects of his transcendent Love,
Who out of nothing did her beauteous Fabrick raise.
O Prodigy of Art Divine!
The Deity did in the wondrous Structure shine!
Who can in sit Expressions the sublime Idea dress,
Or the stupendous Marvels of that Work express!
Angels themselves, whose Intellects are free
From those dark Mists which our weak Reason cloud,
Who things in their remotest Causes see,
Whose Knowledge like their Station's great and high,
Above the loftiest Flights of weak Mortality,
Astonish'd saw the rising World appear;
The new, the glorious, the transporting Sight,
So full of Wonder, and Delight,
With rapt'rous Joys fill'd each celestial Breast,
With Joys too vast to be exprest;
Such Extasies as here
We could not feel, and live;
They to our Beings wou'd a Period give:
The killing Pleasure wou'd be too intense,
And quite o'erwhelm our feeble Sense;
But they who are all Intellect and Will,
And what they please fulfil,
Whose Minds are pure, free from the least Allay,
Serene, and clear, as everlasting Day,
Imbibe the most extatick Joys with eager Haste,
Nor can th' immense Excess immortal Spirits waste.
",2012-01-06,10395,"","""But they who are all Intellect and Will, / And what they please fulfil, / Whose Minds are pure, free from the least Allay, / Serene, and clear, as everlasting Day, / Imbibe the most extatick Joys with eager Haste, / Nor can th' immense Excess immortal Spirits waste.""",Metal,2012-01-06 21:13:35 UTC,20
4017,Refinement,"Searching ""mind"" and ""dross"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2005-06-13 00:00:00 UTC,"I'le take my Leave of Business, Noise and Care,
And trust this stormy Sea no more:
Condemn'd to Toil, and fed with Air,
I've often sighing look'd towards the Shore:
And when the boistrous Winds did cease,
And all was still, and all was Peace,
Afraid of Calms, and flatt'ring Skies,
On the deceitful Waves I fixt my Eyes,
And on a sudden saw the threatning Billows rise:
Then trembling beg'd the Pow'rs Divine,
Some little safe Retreat might be for ever mine:
O give, I cry'd, where e'er you please,
Those Gifts which Mortals prize,
Grown fond of Privacy and Ease,
I now the gaudy Pomps of Life despise.
Still let the Greedy strive with Pain,
T'augment their shining Heaps of Clay;
And punish'd with the Thirst of Gain,
Their Honour lose, their Conscience stain:
Let th'ambitious Thrones desire
And still with guilty hast aspire;
Thro' Blood and Dangers force their Way,
And o'er the World extend their Sway,
While I my time to nobler Uses give,
And to my Books, and Thoughts entirely live;
Those dear Delights, in which I still shall find
Ten thousand Joys to feast my Mind,
Joys, great as Sense can bear, from all its Dross refin'd.",,10402,"","""Those dear Delights, in which I still shall find / Ten thousand Joys to feast my Mind, / Joys, great as Sense can bear, from all its Dross refin'd.""",Metal,2009-09-14 19:34:57 UTC,""
4017,"","Searching ""mind"" and ""dross"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2005-06-13 00:00:00 UTC,"When by soft moving Ovid I am told,
Of those strange Changes which were wrought of old,
When Gods in Brutal Shapes did Mortals court,
And unbecoming Actions made their Sport,
When helpless Wretches fled from impious Pow'rs,
And hid themselves in Birds, Beasts, Trees, and Flow'rs:
When none from Outrage cou'd securely dwell,
But felt the Rage of Heav'n, of Earth, and Hell:
Methinks, I see those Passions well exprest,
Which play the Tyrant in the Mortal Breast:
They to Ten thousand Miseries expose,
And are our only, and our deadly Foes:
They like the Vultur on our Entrails prey,
And in our Path the Golden Apple lay,
But from us snatch our dear Euridices away.
Up the steep Hill the pond'rous Torment roll,
And cheat with empty Shews the famish'd Soul:
Those who are still submitted to their Sway,
Must in the gloomy Realms of Pluto stay,
And never more re-visit cheerful Day:
But those who're from their earthly Dross calcin'd,
Who tast the Pleasures of a virtuous Mind,
Who'd rather chuse to die, than once their Conscience stain,
Who midst Temptations Innocence retain,
And o'er themselves an undisputed Empire gain:
In th' Elysian Fields shall be for ever blest,
And with the Happy, there enjoy the Sweets of Rest.",,10404,"","""But those who're from their earthly Dross calcin'd,
Who tast the Pleasures of a virtuous Mind""",Metal,2009-09-14 19:34:57 UTC,""
4019,"","Searching ""mind"" and ""dross"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2005-06-13 00:00:00 UTC," Happy are they who when alone
Can with themselves converse;
Who to their Thoughts are so familiar grown,
That with Delight in some obscure Recess,
They cou'd with silent Joy think all their Hours away,
And still think on, till the confining Clay
Fall off, and nothing's left behind
Of drossy Earth, nothing to clog the Mind,
Or hinder its Ascent to those bright Forms above,
Those glorious Beings whose exalted Sense
Transcends the highest Flights of human Wit;
Who with Seraphick Ardor fir'd,
And with a Passion more intense
Than Mortal Beauty e'er inspir'd;
With all th' endearing Extasies of Love,
Will to their blest Society again
The long lost Wand'rers admit,
Where freed from all their former Pain,
And cleans'd from ev'ry Stain,
They bask with Pleasure in eternal Day,
And grow as pure, and as refin'd as they.
",,10405,"","Some might ""still think on, till the confining Clay / Fall off, and nothing's left behind /Of drossy Earth, nothing to clog the Mind.""","",2011-03-08 21:23:44 UTC,First Stanza
4010,Inwardness,Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2005-08-09 00:00:00 UTC,"Teach the luxurious with a noble Scorn
To look on all the glitt'ring Trifles here below:
Tell them they were for higher Bus'ness born,
And on their Minds should all their Thoughts bestow;
There all their Care, and all their Skill should show.
Tell them the Pomp of Life is but a Snare,
Riches, Temptations which they ought to fear,
Empire, a Burthen few have Strength enough to bear.
The true, substantial Wealth is lodg'd within;
'Tis there the brightest Gems are found:
Such as wou'd great and glorious Treasures win,
Treasures which theirs for ever will remain,
Must Piety and Wisdom strive to gain:
Those shining Ornaments which always prove
Incentives to Respect and Love.
Virtue its Splendor ever will retain,
And Wisdom still an inward State maintain;
Still in the Soul with a Majestick Grandeur reign.
In vicious Minds they Admiration raise,
What they won't practice, they are forc'd to praise:
With gnawing Envy they their Triumphs view,
But dare not their malignant Rancor shew,
Nor undisguis'd the Dictates of their Spite pursue:
Like Birds obscene they shun th' offensive Light,
And hide themselves beneath the gloomy Veil of Night.
Thrice blest are they who're with interior Graces crown'd,
Whose Minds with rational Delights abound,
With Pleasures more delicious, more refin'd,
Than the voluptuous can in their Enjoyments find;
Such Pleasures as ne'er yet regal'd their Sense,
Which Earth can't give, nor mightiest Kings dispence,
And whose Description far exceeds the Pow'r of Eloquence.",,10406,"","""The true, substantial Wealth is lodg'd within; / 'Tis there the brightest Gems are found: / Such as wou'd great and glorious Treasures win, Treasures which theirs for ever will remain, / Must Piety and Wisdom strive to gain.""",Coinage,2013-06-11 18:05:43 UTC,70