text,updated_at,metaphor,created_at,context,theme,reviewed_on,dictionary,comments,provenance,id,work_id
"When sovereign Reason from her throne is hurl'd,
And with her all the subject senses whirl'd,
From sweet HUMANITY, the nurse of grief,
Even thy deep woes, O Phrenzy! find relief;
For tho' the tresses loose and bosom bare,
And maniac glance thy hapless state declare,
With gentle hand she still supports thy head,
Beguiles thy wand'ring wit, and smoothes thy bed;
Assists thy roving fancy in its flight,
To crown thy airy sallies with delight;
An healing balm to thy warp'd sense she brings,
Till from her softness magic comfort springs,
And joys which reason with a frown denies,
Her tender pity with a smile supplies;
Ev'n in thy prison-house she bids thee draw
From the rush sceptre, and the crown of straw,
The mimic truncheon, and the love-knot true,
Full many a transport Reason never knew;
And at thy grated cell she oft appears,
She culls thee flowers, and bathes them with her tears;
The perfum'd violet and the blooming rose,
On thy hurt mind a transient bliss bestows;
Into a thousand shapes the garlands change,
As fairy fancy takes its antic range;
Then as thy brows the fragrant wreaths adorn,
The roses seem to bloom without a thorn.
",2011-07-18 20:16:22 UTC,"""An healing balm to thy warp'd sense she brings, / Till from her softness magic comfort springs, / And joys which reason with a frown denies, / Her tender pity with a smile supplies.""",2004-07-27 00:00:00 UTC,"","",2011-07-18,"","",HDIS (Poetry),15167,5687
"WARNFORD
Well, Lucy, I own that my heart yields like wax to the impression of the little god.
LUCY
I fancy the wax is soon hot and soon cold, and yields to a different impression every day.
WARNFORD
You are mistaken, Lucy:--it does not follow that I should be inconstant, because I am attentive to the whole sex.
AIR. WARNFORD.
So deep within my heart
My fair one's image lies,
That only death's keen dart
Can reach my dearest prize.
The oak firm rooted mocks the blast,
And dares its proud tyrannic sway;
Yet when the angry storm is past,
His leaves the zephyr's breath obey.
Firm fixt that love remains,
Increasing ev'ry hour,
Which falsehood's sway disdains,",2009-09-14 19:42:58 UTC,"""I own that my heart yields like wax to the impression of the little god""",2005-04-11 00:00:00 UTC,"Act I, Scene 1i","",,"","","Searching ""wax"" and ""heart"" in HDIS (Drama)",15181,5688
"Ye friends of Man! whose souls with mercy glow,
Swell not your bosoms with this weight of woe?
Fires not the social blood within your veins,
To make the White Man feel the Negro's pains?
Beat not your hearts the miscreant arms to bind,
Of the proud Christian with a savage mind?
Dost thou not pant to snap the impious chain,
And rush to succour the insulted train?
From servile bonds, to free the hapless race,
And fix the haughty tyrants in their place?
Make them the weight of Slav'ry to know,
Till their hard natures melt at social woe,
Nor till they humanize to social men,
Would ye restore them to their rights again!
(p. 86-7)",2011-07-18 20:23:36 UTC,"""Fires not the social blood within your veins, / To make the White Man feel the Negro's pains? / Beat not your hearts the miscreant arms to bind, / Of the proud Christian with a savage mind?""",2011-07-18 20:23:36 UTC,"","",,"","",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),18916,5687
"For you, while Morn in graces gay,
Wakes the fresh bloom of op'ning Day;
Gilds with her purple light your dome,
Renewing all the joys of home;
Of home! dear scene, whose ties can bind
With sacred force the human mind;
That feels each little absence pain,
And lives but to return again;
To that lov'd spot, however far,
Points, like the needle to its star;
That native shed which first we knew,
Where first the sweet affections grew;
Alike the willing heart can draw,
If fram'd of marble, or of straw;
Whether the voice of pleasure calls,
And gladness echoes thro' its walls;
Or, to its hallow'd roof we fly,
With those we love to pour the sigh;
The load of mingled pain to bear,
And soften every pang we share!--
Ah, think how desolate His state,
How He the chearful light must hate,
Whom, sever'd from his native soil,
The Morning wakes to fruitless toil;
To labours, hope shall never chear,
Or fond domestic joy endear;
Poor wretch! on whose despairing eyes
His cherish'd home shall never rise!
Condemn'd, severe extreme, to live
When all is fled that life can give!--
And ah! the blessings valued most
By human minds, are blessings lost!
Unlike the objects of the eye,
Enlarging, as we bring them nigh,
Our joys, at distance strike the breast,
And seem diminish'd when possest.
(pp. 12-4, ll. 173-208)",2011-09-02 18:59:23 UTC,"""Of home! dear scene, whose ties can bind / With sacred force the human mind / That feels each little absence pain, / And lives but to return again / To that lov'd spot, however far, / Points, like the needle to its star; / That native shed which first we knew, / Where first the sweet affections grew; / Alike the willing heart can draw, / If fram'd of marble, or of straw.""",2011-09-02 18:54:11 UTC,"","",,"","",Reading,19123,7080
"Who, from his far-divided shore,
The half-expiring Captive bore?
Those, whom the traffic of their race
Has robb'd of every human grace;
Whose harden'd souls no more retain
Impressions Nature stamp'd in vain;
All that distinguishes their kind,
For ever blotted from their mind;
As streams, that once the landscape gave
Reflected on the trembling wave,
Their substance change, when lock'd in frost,
And rest, in dead contraction lost;--
Who view unmov'd, the look, that tells
The pang that in the bosom dwells;
Heed not the nerves that terror shakes,
The heart convulsive anguish breaks;
The shriek that would their crimes upbraid,
But deem despair a part of trade.--
Such only, for detested gain,
The barb'rous commerce would maintain.
The gen'rous sailor, he, who dares
All forms of danger, while he bears
The BRITISH Flag o'er untrack'd seas,
And spreads it on the polar breeze;
He, who in Glory's high career,
Finds agony, and death are dear;
To whose protecting arm we owe
Each blessing that the happy know;
Whatever charms the soften'd heart,
Each cultur'd grace, each finer art,
E'en thine, most lovely of the train!
Sweet Poetry! thy heav'n-taught strain--
His breast, where nobler passions burn,
In honest poverty, would spurn
That wealth, Oppression can bestow,
And scorn to wound a fetter'd foe.
True courage in the unconquer'd soul
Yields to Compassion's mild controul;
As, the resisting frame of steel
The magnet's secret force can feel.
(pp. 13-6, ll. 209-247)",2011-09-02 19:07:30 UTC,"There are those ""whom the traffic of their race / Has robb'd of every human grace; / Whose harden'd souls no more retain / Impressions Nature stamp'd in vain; / All that distinguishes their kind, / For ever blotted from their mind; / As streams, that once the landscape gave / Reflected on the trembling wave, / Their substance change, when lock'd in frost, / And rest, in dead contraction lost.""",2011-09-02 19:05:38 UTC,"","",,Impressions,"",Reading,19125,7080
"""Never, I hope!"" replied Sir Richard. At least, for many years to come, may this country not know and feel and be sensible of such a loss, deprivation and defection. My Lord, my present concern is of a very different nature; and I do assure and protest to your Lordship that no time nor intreaties nor persuasion will erase and obliterate and wipe away from my mind, the injury and prejudice the parties have done me, by thus--""
(III, pp. 244-5)",2013-06-14 05:08:27 UTC,"""My Lord, my present concern is of a very different nature; and I do assure and protest to your Lordship that no time nor intreaties nor persuasion will erase and obliterate and wipe away from my mind, the injury and prejudice the parties have done me, by thus.""",2013-06-14 05:08:27 UTC,"","",,Writing,"",Searching in C-H Lion,20679,7439
"This, which was of the same date as the last certificate, confirmed every claim which they both gave Emmeline to her name and fortune. A change of circumstances so sudden; her apprehensions that the Marquis of Montreville, who she thought must have long known, should dispute her legitimacy, and her wonder at the concealment which Mr. Williamson and Mrs. Carey seemed passively to have suffered; which together with a thousand other sensations crouded at once into her mind, so greatly affected her, that feeling herself grow sick, she was obliged to call Madelon, who being at work in an adjoining room, ran in, and seeing her lady look extremely pale, and hearing her speak with difficulty, she threw open the window, fetched her some water, and then without waiting to see their effects she flew away to call Mrs. St. Alpin; who presently appeared, followed by her maid carrying a large case which was filled with bottles of various distillations from every aromatic and pungent herb her garden or the adjacent mountains afforded.
(IV, p. 21)",2013-06-14 05:14:28 UTC,"""A change of circumstances so sudden; her apprehensions that the Marquis of Montreville, who she thought must have long known, should dispute her legitimacy, and her wonder at the concealment which Mr. Williamson and Mrs. Carey seemed passively to have suffered; which together with a thousand other sensations crouded at once into her mind, so greatly affected her, that feeling herself grow sick, she was obliged to call Madelon, who being at work in an adjoining room, ran in, and seeing her lady look extremely pale, and hearing her speak with difficulty, she threw open the window, fetched her some water, and then without waiting to see their effects she flew away to call Mrs. St. Alpin; who presently appeared, followed by her maid carrying a large case which was filled with bottles of various distillations from every aromatic and pungent herb her garden or the adjacent mountains afforded.""",2013-06-14 05:14:28 UTC,"","",,"","",Searching in C-H Lion,20684,7439
"She now again relapsed almost into insensibility: for at the mention of Godolphin's having overtaken him, and having left him ill, a thousand terrific and frightful images crouded into her mind; but the predominant idea was, that it was on her account they had met, and that Delamere's illness was a wound in consequence of that meeting.
(IV, pp. 58-9)",2013-06-14 05:16:51 UTC,"""She now again relapsed almost into insensibility: for at the mention of Godolphin's having overtaken him, and having left him ill, a thousand terrific and frightful images crouded into her mind; but the predominant idea was, that it was on her account they had met, and that Delamere's illness was a wound in consequence of that meeting.""",2013-06-14 05:16:51 UTC,"","",,"","",Searching in C-H Lion,20686,7439
"During the first part of this short account, Emmeline, charmed more than ever with Godolphin, and ashamed of having for a moment entertained a suspicion to the disadvantage of such a man, sat silent; but at the conclusion of it, her eyes overflowed with tears; she felt something that told her she ought to apologise to him for the error she had been guilty of--tho' of that error he knew nothing; and impelled by an involuntary impulse, she held out her hand to him.--Dear, generous, noble-minded Godolphin! was uttered by her heart, but her lips only echoed the last word.
(IV, pp. 169-70)",2013-06-14 05:26:20 UTC,"""Dear, generous, noble-minded Godolphin! was uttered by her heart, but her lips only echoed the last word.""",2013-06-14 05:26:20 UTC,"","",,"",INTEREST: REVISIT for soliloquy,C-H Lion,20695,7439
"Lady Adelina reached the gate, which opened from the cliffs to the lawn, she was fatigued by her lovely burthen and forced to stop. Emmeline would then have taken him; but she said no; and sitting down on the ground, held him in her lap, till Barret who had seen her from a window, came out and took him from her; to which, as to a thing usual, she consented, and then walked calmly home with Emmeline, who, extremely discomposed by the wildness of her manner, was fearful of again introducing any interesting topic, least she should again touch those fine chords which were untuned in the mind of her unhappy friend; and which seemed occasionally to vibrate with an acuteness that threatened the ruin of the whole fabric. Barret, who afterwards came to assist her in dressing, told her, that within the last six weeks her lady had often been subject to long fits of absence, sometimes of tears; and that they generally ended in her snatching the child eagerly to her, kissing him with the wildest fondness, and after having kept him with her some time, and wept extremely, she usually became rational and composed for the rest of the day.
(IV, p. 267)",2013-06-14 05:33:57 UTC,"""Emmeline would then have taken him; but she said no; and sitting down on the ground, held him in her lap, till Barret who had seen her from a window, came out and took him from her; to which, as to a thing usual, she consented, and then walked calmly home with Emmeline, who, extremely discomposed by the wildness of her manner, was fearful of again introducing any interesting topic, least she should again touch those fine chords which were untuned in the mind of her unhappy friend; and which seemed occasionally to vibrate with an acuteness that threatened the ruin of the whole fabric.""",2013-06-14 05:33:57 UTC,"","",,"","",C-H Lion,20703,7439