work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context
5612,"",Reading,2003-07-29 00:00:00 UTC,"O, Montagu! forgive me, if I sing
Thy wisdom tempered with the milder ray
Of soft humanity, and kindness bland:
So wide its influence, that the bright beams
Reach the low vale where mists of ignorance lodge,
Strike on the innate spark which lay immersed,
Thick-clogged, and almost quenched in total night--
On me it fell, and cheered my joyless heart.
Unwelcome is the first bright dawn of light
To the dark soul; impatient, she rejects,
And fain would push the heavenly stranger back;
She loathes the cranny which admits the day;
Confused, afraid of the intruding guest;
Disturbed, unwilling to receive the beam,
Which to herself her native darkness shows.
The effort rude to quench the cheering flame
Was mine, and e'en on Stella could I gaze
With sullen envy, and admiring pride,
Till, doubly roused by Montagu, the pair
Conspire to clear my dull, imprisoned sense,
And chase the mists which dimmed my visual beam.
Oft as I trod my native wilds alone,
Strong gusts of thought would rise, but rise to die;
The portals of the swelling soul ne'er oped
By liberal converse, rude ideas strove
Awhile for vent, but found it not, and died.
Thus rust the Mind's best powers. Yon starry orbs,
Majestic ocean, flowery vales, gay groves,
Eye-wasting lawns, and heaven-attempting hills
Which bound th' horizon, and which curb the view;
All those, with beauteous imagery, awaked
My ravished soul to ecstasy untaught,
To all the transport the rapt sense can bear;
But all expired, for want of powers to speak;
All perished in the mind as soon as born,
Erased more quick than cyphers on the shore,
O'er which cruel waves, unheedful roll.
Such timid rapture as young Edwin seized,
When his lone footsteps on the Sage obtrude,
Whose noble precept charmed his wondering
Such rapture filled Lactilla's vacant soul,
When the bright Moralist, in softness dressed,
Opes all the glories of the mental world,
Deigns to direct the infant thought, to prune
The budding sentiment, uprear the stalk
Of feeble fancy, bid idea live,
Woo the abstracted spirit form its cares,
And gently guide her to scenes of peace.
Mine was than balm, and mine the grateful heart,
Which breathes its thanks in rough, but timid strains.
(ll. 30-79, pp. 395-6)",,14995,•I've included all the stanzas but the first because of the density of metaphors (8 entries total).,"""Oft as I trod my native wilds alone, / Strong gusts of thought would rise, but rise to die; / The portals of the swelling soul ne'er oped / By liberal converse, rude ideas strove / Awhile for vent, but found it not, and died.""",Rooms,2013-11-17 17:03:14 UTC,""
5612,"",Reading,2003-07-29 00:00:00 UTC,"O, Montagu! forgive me, if I sing
Thy wisdom tempered with the milder ray
Of soft humanity, and kindness bland:
So wide its influence, that the bright beams
Reach the low vale where mists of ignorance lodge,
Strike on the innate spark which lay immersed,
Thick-clogged, and almost quenched in total night--
On me it fell, and cheered my joyless heart.
Unwelcome is the first bright dawn of light
To the dark soul; impatient, she rejects,
And fain would push the heavenly stranger back;
She loathes the cranny which admits the day;
Confused, afraid of the intruding guest;
Disturbed, unwilling to receive the beam,
Which to herself her native darkness shows.
The effort rude to quench the cheering flame
Was mine, and e'en on Stella could I gaze
With sullen envy, and admiring pride,
Till, doubly roused by Montagu, the pair
Conspire to clear my dull, imprisoned sense,
And chase the mists which dimmed my visual beam.
Oft as I trod my native wilds alone,
Strong gusts of thought would rise, but rise to die;
The portals of the swelling soul ne'er oped
By liberal converse, rude ideas strove
Awhile for vent, but found it not, and died.
Thus rust the Mind's best powers. Yon starry orbs,
Majestic ocean, flowery vales, gay groves,
Eye-wasting lawns, and heaven-attempting hills
Which bound th' horizon, and which curb the view;
All those, with beauteous imagery, awaked
My ravished soul to ecstasy untaught,
To all the transport the rapt sense can bear;
But all expired, for want of powers to speak;
All perished in the mind as soon as born,
Erased more quick than cyphers on the shore,
O'er which cruel waves, unheedful roll.
Such timid rapture as young Edwin seized,
When his lone footsteps on the Sage obtrude,
Whose noble precept charmed his wondering
Such rapture filled Lactilla's vacant soul,
When the bright Moralist, in softness dressed,
Opes all the glories of the mental world,
Deigns to direct the infant thought, to prune
The budding sentiment, uprear the stalk
Of feeble fancy, bid idea live,
Woo the abstracted spirit form its cares,
And gently guide her to scenes of peace.
Mine was than balm, and mine the grateful heart,
Which breathes its thanks in rough, but timid strains.
(ll. 30-79, pp. 395-6)",,14997,•I've included all the stanzas but the first because of the density of metaphors (8 entries total).,"""Yon starry orbs, / Majestic ocean, flowery vales, gay groves, / Eye-wasting lawns, and heaven-attempting hills / Which bound th' horizon, and which curb the view; / All those, with beauteous imagery, awaked / My ravished soul to ecstasy untaught, / To all the transport the rapt sense can bear; / But all expired, for want of powers to speak; / All perished in the mind as soon as born, / Erased more quick than cyphers on the shore, / O'er which cruel waves, unheedful roll.""",Writing,2013-11-17 17:14:56 UTC,""
5612,"",Reading,2003-07-29 00:00:00 UTC,"O, Montagu! forgive me, if I sing
Thy wisdom tempered with the milder ray
Of soft humanity, and kindness bland:
So wide its influence, that the bright beams
Reach the low vale where mists of ignorance lodge,
Strike on the innate spark which lay immersed,
Thick-clogged, and almost quenched in total night--
On me it fell, and cheered my joyless heart.
Unwelcome is the first bright dawn of light
To the dark soul; impatient, she rejects,
And fain would push the heavenly stranger back;
She loathes the cranny which admits the day;
Confused, afraid of the intruding guest;
Disturbed, unwilling to receive the beam,
Which to herself her native darkness shows.
The effort rude to quench the cheering flame
Was mine, and e'en on Stella could I gaze
With sullen envy, and admiring pride,
Till, doubly roused by Montagu, the pair
Conspire to clear my dull, imprisoned sense,
And chase the mists which dimmed my visual beam.
Oft as I trod my native wilds alone,
Strong gusts of thought would rise, but rise to die;
The portals of the swelling soul ne'er oped
By liberal converse, rude ideas strove
Awhile for vent, but found it not, and died.
Thus rust the Mind's best powers. Yon starry orbs,
Majestic ocean, flowery vales, gay groves,
Eye-wasting lawns, and heaven-attempting hills
Which bound th' horizon, and which curb the view;
All those, with beauteous imagery, awaked
My ravished soul to ecstasy untaught,
To all the transport the rapt sense can bear;
But all expired, for want of powers to speak;
All perished in the mind as soon as born,
Erased more quick than cyphers on the shore,
O'er which cruel waves, unheedful roll.
Such timid rapture as young Edwin seized,
When his lone footsteps on the Sage obtrude,
Whose noble precept charmed his wondering.
Such rapture filled Lactilla's vacant soul,
When the bright Moralist, in softness dressed,
Opes all the glories of the mental world,
Deigns to direct the infant thought, to prune
The budding sentiment, uprear the stalk
Of feeble fancy, bid idea live,
Woo the abstracted spirit form its cares,
And gently guide her to scenes of peace.
Mine was than balm, and mine the grateful heart,
Which breathes its thanks in rough, but timid strains.
(ll. 30-79, pp. 395-6)",2009-12-28,14999,•I've included all the stanzas but the first because of the density of metaphors (8 entries total).,"""Such rapture filled Lactilla's vacant soul, /
When the bright Moralist, in softness dressed, / Opes all the glories of the mental world, / Deigns to direct the infant thought, to prune / The budding sentiment, uprear the stalk / Of feeble fancy, bid idea live, / Woo the abstracted spirit form its cares, / And gently guide her to scenes of peace.""",Inhabitants,2013-11-17 17:09:00 UTC,""
5614,"","Reading; found again searching ""mirror"" and ""mind in HDIS (Poetry); and again in ECCO-TCP",2003-12-17 00:00:00 UTC,"There is a pleasure in poetic pains
Which only poets know. The shifts and turns,
The expedients and inventions multiform
To which the mind resorts, in chase of terms
Though apt, yet coy, and difficult to win,--
To arrest the fleeting images that fill
The mirror of the mind, and hold them fast,
And force them sit, till he has pencil'd off
A faithful likeness of the forms he views;
Then to dispose his copies with such art
That each may find its most propitious light,
And shine by situation, hardly less
Than by the labour and the skill it cost,
Are occupations of the poet's mind
So pleasing, and that steal away the thought
With such address, from themes of sad import,
That lost in his own musings, happy man!
He feels the anxieties of life, denied
Their wonted entertainment, all retire.
Such joys has he that sings. But ah! not such,
Or seldom such, the hearers of his song.
Fastidious, or else listless, or perhaps
Aware of nothing arduous in a task
They never undertook, they little note
His dangers or escapes, and haply find
There least amusement where he found the most.
But is amusement all? studious of song,
And yet ambitious not to sing in vain,
I would not trifle merely, though the world
Be loudest in their praise who do no more.
Yet what can satire, whether grave or gay?
It may correct a foible, may chastise
The freaks of fashion, regulate the dress,
Retrench a sword-blade, or displace a patch;
But where are its sublimer trophies found?
What vice has it subdued? whose heart reclaim'd
By rigour, or whom laugh'd into reform?
Alas! Leviathan is not so tamed.
Laugh'd at, he laughs again; and stricken hard,
Turns to the stroke his adamantine scales,
That fear no discipline of human hands.
(Bk. II, ll. 285-325, pp. 146-7)",,15004,"","""The shifts and turns, / The expedients and inventions multiform / To which the mind resorts, in chase of terms / Though apt, yet coy, and difficult to win,-- / To arrest the fleeting images that fill / The mirror of the mind, and hold them fast, / And force them sit, till he has pencil'd off / A faithful likeness of the forms he views.""",Mirror,2013-08-22 21:11:58 UTC,""
5620,"",HDIS,2004-08-07 00:00:00 UTC,"But let no slavish pomp your feasts restrain,
Beneath your gilded roofs let freedom reign,
Push round the glass, command th' enliv'ning bowl,
Let the gay juice unlock the secret soul;
Chase vain distinction; from your frizled hair
Pluck the Tiara chance has planted there,
Forget thyself,--to aid the mystic plan,
Lay royalty aside and play the man;
Or if 'twould more enhance the general joy,
Let manhood rest awhile and,--play the boy!
'Twill well reward thy pains, for great's power
Of Bacchus gay intoxicated hour,
To tell the secret thoughts, and to impart
The hidden purpose of the cunning heart.
But would you know the passions that infest
With dead'ning influence the human breast,
Chase the gay scene, the ready dice command,
Let the box rattle in each eager hand.
Mix with the noisy tribe and mark by turns
How swelling hope within each bosom burns;
How, in a moment, forc'd by pale despair,
It quits the harrass'd throne it sought to share;
How, in the heart, by jarring tempests tost,
Truth, honour, reason, virtue all are lost.[1]
--Let not the frenzy fright thee; rather try
What venture waits upon the treach'rous die.
Who knows but, spite of every secret art,
Thy lucky throws may wring the gambler's heart.
But should'st thou lose, in fortune's fickle hour,
Mortgage the promises of future power.
Should clam'rous duns assail thy wearied gate,
And sorry tradesmen with impatience wait
Their ling'ring dues, 'till Hotham's eyes behold
Your coffers shining with replenish'd gold,
Withdraw your favours,--let the crew bemoan
The gilded plumes that made their traffic known:
Is it no honour that your name should grace
The splendid portals of the thankless race?
Or lends it not the privilege to cheat
The wealthy little ones who ape the great?
Grant then the favour, where your frequent name
May give the ponderous ledger half its fame.[2]
",,15043,"","The gay juice may ""unlock the secret soul""","",2009-09-14 19:42:37 UTC,""
5617,"",Searching HDIS,2004-10-14 00:00:00 UTC,"On seeing Miss YOUNGE in the Character of Lady Flippant Savage.
The two scenic Muses had long kept a distance,
And scorn'd of each other to borrow assistance;
Thalia was pert, and Melpomene proud,
And though of admirers they both had a croud;
Not two rival beauties on earth could be seen
More tortur'd with jealousy, envy and spleen:
Till Jove, to whom all the celestials submit,
In matters of Weight, or in matters of Wit,
Interpos'd his command, saying, henceforth agree,
United in friendship as Sisters should be;
And grant, as a pledge that your union's sincere,
Your mutual pow'rs to some favourite fair;
If one can be found amongst mortals below
Deserving the attributes you can bestow.
The Sisters obey'd; but unfix'd was their choice,
Till Minerva appearing with soul-moving voice:
While in scales of suspense both their fancies were hung,
Appeal'd to their senses, and pointed to Younge.
To Younge, where the smile-stealing comic we find,
With the soft, the sublime, and the graceful combin'd.
To Younge who can each diff'rent passion impart,
Who pleases the judgement, but conquers the heart,
And guided by Nature, is followed by Art.",,15049,•I've included the whole poem. ,"In the ""scales of suspense"" two fancies may be hung
","",2009-09-14 19:42:38 UTC,Front Matter
5630,"",C18 Listserv: Joel S. Berson (3/16/2005),2005-03-17 00:00:00 UTC,"Paris, August 19, 1785. To Peter Carr.
[advice to a young man--probably just beginning college at William and Mary--on how to conduct himself morally and ethically, what to learn and read, and what other good habits to develop.]
""Give about two of them [hours] every day to exercise; for health must not be sacrificed to learning. ... Games played with the ball, and others of that nature, are too violent for the body, and stamp no character on the mind. ... Walking is the best possible exercise. Habituate yourself to walk very far. The Europeans value themselves on having subdued the horse to the uses of man; but I doubt whether we have not lost more than we have gained, by the use of this animal. No one has occasioned so much the degeneracy of the human body.",2009-01-20,15057,"","""Games played with the ball, and others of that nature, are too violent for the body, and stamp no character on the mind.""","",2009-09-14 19:42:39 UTC,""
5631,"",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2005-03-07 00:00:00 UTC,"Vain were the hope to save a ruin'd world!
Ev'n Jesu's sufferings ne'er convinc'd the whole;
Then shall an atom the fix'd axis move,
And win a world from hell? Thou greatly dar'st,
Yet limited thy power; stand forth, ye few!
You who wou'd give a lustre to your name,
And prove the grand impression of Jehovah;
Who weep, like R---, the glory of your God,
Defac'd, demolish'd, beauty trod in dust;
Leave not the wreck deserted on the beach,
Where Ignorance, Vice, and loud-mouth'd Reprobation,
Exulting yell, and wring the melting soul:
O! freeze, to hear the hoary-headed sinner,
With ceaseless profanation, taint the air;
Grown old in dark stupidity, he treads,
Fearless, tho' feeble; on the verge of fate
Sin leaves him not; and innate flames of vice
Still fiercely burn; the fact exists in will:
The last remain of life presents a gloom
Which frights the shrinking soul; lo! back she starts,
Struck with dire horror, loth to hear the sound,
The dreadful summons of offended Heaven--
She lingers--the strong blast to atoms rends
The frame which held her.--O! ye better souls,
Ye nobler few, who slumber in your race,
Tho' well begun, and forwarded with hope,
Say, will you see a fellow-spirit lost,
Thus swallow'd in the ever-yawning gulf,
That frights the mental eye, and e'en appals
The man who firmest stands, nor lend your aid
To save him, as a soul once meant for Heaven?
O, think! the coming hour will soon be yours;
Let not a form which bears your Maker's image
Defeat the end of being: know 'tis yours,
In heavenly tints to dip the infant soul;
To raise the new idea, lift it high,
Ev'n to Jehovah's Throne: the ductile mind,
Pliant as wax, shall wear the mould you give;
Sharp Gratitude you've call'd to life, shall cut,
In cyphers deep, the now expanded heart;
And, ev'n beyond the chambers of the grave,
The joyous spirit shall your records bear,
To meet your eyes when trembling worlds expire.
What then shall live, or stand in that dread hour,
But acts like these, when panting spirits call
For every little test to aid their plea?
May yours resound, supported in the blast
By grateful Infants, and by ripen'd Man,
To whom you gave perfection. Angels smile,
And songs of glory shake the vault of Heaven.",,15058,•Not easy to categorize.,"An infant soul must be lifted to Jehovah's throne because ""[T]he ductile mind, / Pliant as wax, shall wear the mould you give""","",2009-09-14 19:42:40 UTC,""
5632,"","Searching ""stamp"" and ""thought"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2005-04-11 00:00:00 UTC,"Excuse me, Stella, sunk in humble state,
With more than needful awe I view the great;
No glossy diction e'er can aid the thought,
First stamp'd in ignorance, with error fraught.
My friends I've prais'd--they stood in heavenly guise
When first I saw them, and my mental eyes
Shall in that heavenly rapture view them still,
For mine's a stubborn and a savage will;
No customs, manners, or soft arts I boast,
On my rough soul your nicest rules are lost;
Yet shall unpolish'd gratitude be mine,
While Stella deigns to nurse the spark divine.
A savage pleads--let e'en her errors move,
And your forgiving spirit melt in love.
O, cherish gentle Pity's lambent flame,
From Heaven's own bosom the soft pleader came!
Then deign to bless a soul, who'll ne'er degrade
Your gift, tho' sharpest miseries invade!
You I acknowledge, next to bounteous Heaven,
Like his, your influence cheers where'er 'tis given;
Blest in dispensing! gentle Stella, hear
My only, short, but pity-moving prayer,
That thy great soul may spare the rustic Muse,
Whom Science ever scorn'd, and errors still abuse.",,15061,"",""" No glossy diction e'er can aid the thought, / First stamp'd in ignorance, with error fraught.""","",2009-09-14 19:42:40 UTC,""
5633,"","Searching ""wax"" and ""heart"" in HDIS (Drama)",2005-04-11 00:00:00 UTC,"AIR VI.
CHAR.
Love is a lady's profession,
Her heart is so tenderly cast,
Like wax it will take an impression,
But then the impression will last.
True love never varies its fashion,
Cease cruel parents to blame!
How trivial and hasty your passion;
Our passion is always the same.
CHORUS.
And bobbing about to the fiddle, &c.
TIP.
Let a chambermaid join in the ditty,
Who laughs at the name of a wife!
What woman that ever was pretty,
Would think of one lover for life.
Should numbers prefer their petition,
And now I have numbers in sight;
Remember I give you permission,
To visit me every night.
CHORUS.
Bobbing about to the fiddle, &c.
[Exeunt omnes",,15063,"","""Love is a lady's profession, / Her heart is so tenderly cast, / Like wax it will take an impression, / But then the impression will last""","",2009-09-14 19:42:40 UTC,"Act III, scene 3i"