work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context
5394,"",Reading; confirmed in ECCO-TCP.,2003-07-24 00:00:00 UTC,"What then should BRITONS feel? should they not catch
The warm contagion of heroic ardour,
And kindle at a fire so like their own?
Such were the working thoughts which swelled the breast
Of generous BOSWEL; when with noble aim
And views beyond the narrow beaten track
By trivial fancy trod, he turn'd his course
From polish'd Gallia's soft delicious vales,
From the grey reliques of imperial Rome,
From her long galleries of laurel'd stone,
Her chisel'd heroes, and her marble gods,
Whose dumb majestic pomp yet awes the world,
To animated froms of patriot zeal,
Warm in the living majesty of virtue,
Elate with fearless spirit, firm, resolv'd,
By fortune nor subdu'd nor aw'd by power.
(pp. 2-3; cf. ll. 18-30, pp. 60-1 in Broadview ed.)",,14482,"","""Such were the working thoughts which swelled the breast / Of generous BOSWEL.""","",2014-03-08 16:53:26 UTC,""
5403,"",HDIS (Poetry); confirmed in ECCO-TCP.,2004-01-03 00:00:00 UTC,"O thou, the Nymph with placid eye!
O seldom found, yet ever nigh!
Receive my temperate vow:
Not all the storms that shake the pole
Can e'er disturb thy halcyon soul,
And smooth unaltered brow.
(p. 53)",,14497,"","""Not all the storms that shake the pole / Can e'er disturb thy halcyon soul, / And smooth unaltered brow.""","",2014-03-08 17:08:08 UTC,""
5397,"",HDIS (Poetry),2004-01-03 00:00:00 UTC,"God of my life! and author of my days!
Permit my feeble voice to lisp thy praise;
And trembling, take upon a mortal tongue
That hallowed name to harps of seraphs sung.
Yet here the brightest seraphs could no more
Than veil their faces, tremble, and adore.
Worms, angels, men, in every different sphere
Are equal all,--for all are nothing here.
All nature faints beneath the mighty name,
Which nature's works though all their parts proclaim.
I feel that name my inmost thoughts controul,
And breathe an awful stillness through my soul;
As by a charm, the waves of grief subside;
Impetuous Passion stops her headlong tide:
At thy felt presence all emotions cease,
And my hushed spirit finds a sudden peace,
Till every worldly thought within me dies,
And earth's gay pageants vanish from my eyes;
Till all my sense is lost in infinite,
And one vast object fills my aching sight.
(ll. 1-20, pp. 41-2)",,14505,"","""Till every worldly thought within me dies, / And earth's gay pageants vanish from my eyes; / Till all my sense is lost in infinite, / And one vast object fills my aching sight.""","",2011-05-30 18:53:18 UTC,""
5458,Momus Glass,Reading,2011-06-16 20:16:45 UTC,"And see, with these is holy Friendship found,
With chrystal bosom open to the sight;
Her gentle hand fhall close the recent wound,
And fill the vacant heart with calm delight.
(p. 146)",,18702,"","""And see, with these is holy Friendship found, / With chrystal bosom open to the sight; / Her gentle hand fhall close the recent wound, / And fill the vacant heart with calm delight.""
","",2011-06-16 20:16:45 UTC,""
6964,"",Reading,2011-06-23 04:14:59 UTC,"Ye pale Inhabitants of Night,
Before my intellectual Sight
In solemn Pomp ascend:
O tell how trifling now appears
The Train of idle Hopes and Fears
That varying Life attend.
Ye faithless Idols of our Sense,
Here own how vain your fond Pretence,
Ye empty Names of Joy!
Your transient Forms like Shadows pass,
Frail Offspring of the magic Glass,
Before the mental Eye.
The dazzling Colours, falsely bright,
Attract the gazing vulgar Sight
With superficial State:
Thro' Reason's clearer Optics view'd,
How stript of all it's Pomp, how rude
Appears the painted Cheat.
(pp. 80-1)",,18774,"","""Ye faithless Idols of our Sense, / Here own how vain your fond Pretence, / Ye empty Names of Joy!""","",2011-06-23 04:14:59 UTC,""
6965,"",Reading,2011-06-23 16:34:40 UTC,"While Night in solemn Shade invests the Pole,
And calm Reflexion soothes the pensive Soul;
While Reason undisturb'd asserts her Sway,
And Life’s deceitful Colours fade away:
To Thee! all-conscious Presence! I devote
This peaceful Interval of sober Thought.
Here all my better Faculties confine,
And be this Hour of sacred Silence thine.
If by the Day's illusive Scenes misled,
My erring Soul from Virtue’s Path has stray'd;
Snar'd by example, or by Passion warm'd,
Some false Delight my giddy Sense has charm'd,
My calmer Thoughts the wretched Choice reprove,
And my best Hopes are center'd in thy Love.
Depriv'd of this, can Life one Joy afford!
It's utmost Boast a vain unmeaning Word.
But ah! how oft' my lawless Passions rove,
And break those awful Precepts I approve!
Pursue the fatal Impulse I abhor,
And violate the Virtue I adore!
Oft' when thy better Spirit's guardian Care
Warn'd my fond Soul to shun the tempting Snare,
My stubborn Will his gentle Aid represt,
And check’d the rising Goodness in my Breast,
Mad with vain Hopes, or urg'd by false Desires,
Still'd his soft Voice, and quench'd his sacred Fires.
(ll. 1-26, pp. 31-2)",,18778,"","""If by the Day's illusive Scenes misled, / My erring Soul from Virtue’s Path has stray'd; / Snar'd by example, or by Passion warm'd, / Some false Delight my giddy Sense has charm'd, / My calmer Thoughts the wretched Choice reprove, / And my best Hopes are center'd in thy Love.""","",2011-06-23 16:39:17 UTC,""
6969,"",Reading,2011-06-23 17:36:42 UTC,"In what blest clime, beneath what fav'ring Skies,
Did thy fair Form, propitious Friendship rise?
With mystic Sense, the Poet's tuneful Tongue
*Urania's Birth in glitt'ring Fiction sung.
That Paphos first her smiling Presence own'd,
Which wide diffus'd it's happy Influence round,
With Hands united, and with Looks serene,
Th' attending Graces hail'd their new-born Queen;
The Zephyrs round her wav'd their purple Wing,
And shed the Fragrance of the breathing Spring;
The rosy Hours, advanc'd in silent Flight,
Led sparkling Youth, and ever new Delight.
Soft sigh the Winds, the Waters gently roll,
A purer Azure vests the lucid Pole,
All Nature welcom'd in the beauteous train,
Amd Heav'n and Earth smil'd conscious of the Scene.
But long e'er Paphos rose, or Poet sung,
In heav'nly Breasts the sacred Passion sprung:
The same bright Flames in raptur'd Seraphs glow,
As warm consenting Tempers here below:
While one Attraction Mortal, Angel, binds,
Virtue, which forms the Unison of Minds:
Friendship her soft harmonious Touch affords,
And gently strikes the sympathetic Chords,
Th' agreeing Notes in social Measures roll,
And the sweet Concert flows from Soul to Soul.
(ll. 15-40, pp. 16-17)
*There were two VENUSES among the Ancients; one called PANDEMUS, to whom they attributed the Love of wild disorderly Pleasures; the other nam'd URANIA, the Patroness and Inspirer of Friendship, Knowledge, and Virtue.",,18787,"","""But long e'er Paphos rose, or Poet sung, / In heav'nly Breasts the sacred Passion sprung: / The same bright Flames in raptur'd Seraphs glow, / As warm consenting Tempers here below.","",2011-06-23 17:36:42 UTC,""
6971,"",Reading,2011-06-23 18:59:01 UTC,"Thus the false Forms of Vanity descend,
And in the Gloom of long Oblivion end:
Unreal Fantoms, empty void of Pow’r,
Borne on the fleeting Pinions of an Hour!
Desert in Death the disappointed Mind,
Nor leave a Trace of Happiness behind!
(ll. 21-6, p. 19)",,18791,"","""Unreal Fantoms, empty void of Pow’r, / Borne on the fleeting Pinions of an Hour! / Desert in Death the disappointed Mind, / Nor leave a Trace of Happiness behind!""","",2011-06-23 18:59:01 UTC,""
6973,"",Reading,2011-06-23 19:56:13 UTC,"The Midnight Moon serenely smiles,
O'er Nature's soft Repose;
No low'ring Cloud obscures the Sky,
No ruffling Tempest blows.
Now ev'ry Passion sinks to Rest,
The throbbing Heart lies still:
And varying Schemes of Life no more
Distract the lab'ring Will.
In Silence hush'd, to Reason's Voice,
Attends each mental Pow'r:
Come dear Emilia, and enjoy
Reflexion's fav'rite Hour.
(pp. 65-66)",,18798,"","""In Silence hush'd, to Reason's Voice, / Attends each mental Pow'r.""",Inhabitants,2011-06-23 19:56:13 UTC,""
6979,"",Reading,2011-06-23 20:44:32 UTC,"Not for themselves the toiling artists build,
Not for himself contrives the studious sage:
To distant views by mystic force compell'd,
All give the present to the future age.
Beneath the shelter of this reverend pile
The various schemes of busy care repose:
O'er the dark tombs, along each peopled isle,
The moon's pale beam a faint reflection throws.
Here Death his melancholy pomp displays,
And all his terrors strike on Fancy's eye:
To Fancy's ear each hollow gale conveys,
In chilling sounds, the last expiring sigh.
Mute is each Syren Passion's faithless song
Check'd and suspended by the solemn scene:
Mute the wild clamours of the giddy throng,
And only heard the ""still small voice"" within.
Ambition sick'ning views the laurel'd bust,
The weak reward for years of rival strife:
While Pleasure's garland withering in the dust,
Confutes the gayer hope of frolic life.
(p. 109)",,18807,"","""Mute is each Syren Passion's faithless song / Check'd and suspended by the solemn scene: / Mute the wild clamours of the giddy throng, / And only heard the ""still small voice"" within.""","",2011-06-23 20:44:32 UTC,""