comments,context,dictionary,theme,text,metaphor,updated_at,provenance,reviewed_on,created_at,work_id,id
"•I've included twice: Prison and Mist
•I've included all the stanzas but the first because of the density of metaphors (8 entries total).","",Rooms,"","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)","""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.""",2013-11-17 16:59:48 UTC,Reading,,2003-07-29 00:00:00 UTC,5612,14993
INTEREST: The air pump reading is Yota's,"","","","With advising others to be charitable, however, Dr. Johnson did not content himself. He gave away all he had, and all he ever had gotten, except the two thousand pounds he left behind; and the very small portion of his income which he spent on himself, with all our calculation, we never could make more than seventy, or at most four-score pounds a year, and he pretended to allow himself a hundred. He had numberless dependents out of doors as well as in, who, as he expressed it, ""did not like to see him latterly unless he brought 'em money."" For those people he used frequently to raise contributions on his richer friends; ""and this,"" says he, ""is one of the thousand reasons which ought to restrain a man from drony solitude and useless retirement. Solitude,"" added he one day, ""is dangerous to reason, without being favourable to virtue: pleasures of some sort are necessary to the intellectual as to the corporeal health; and those who resist gaiety will be likely for the most part to fall a sacrifice to appetite; for the solicitations of sense are always at hand, and a dram to a vacant and solitary person is a speedy and seducing relief. Remember,"" concluded he, ""that the solitary mortal is certainly luxurious, probably superstitious, and possibly mad: the mind stagnates for want of employment, grows morbid, and is extinguished like a candle in foul air."" It was on this principle that Johnson encouraged parents to carry their daughters early and much into company: ""for what harm can be done before so many witnesses? Solitude is the surest nurse of all prurient passions, and a girl in the hurry of preparation, or tumult of gaiety, has neither inclination nor leisure to let tender expressions soften or sink into her heart. The ball, the show, are not the dangerous places: no, it is the private friend, the kind consoler, the companion of the easy, vacant hour, whose compliance with her opinions can flatter her vanity, and whose conversation can just soothe, without ever stretching her mind, that is the lover to be feared. He who buzzes in her ear at court or at the opera must be contented to buzz in vain."" These notions Dr. Johnson carried so very far, that I have heard him say, ""If you shut up any man with any woman, so as to make them derive their whole pleasure from each other, they would inevitably fall in love, as it is called, with each other; but at six months' end, if you would throw them both into public life, where they might change partners at pleasure, each would soon forget that fondness which mutual dependence and the paucity of general amusement alone had caused, and each would separately feel delighted by their release.""
(pp. 105-8)","""'Remember,' concluded he, 'that the solitary mortal is certainly luxurious, probably superstitious, and possibly mad: the mind stagnates for want of employment, grows morbid, and is extinguished like a candle in foul air.'""",2011-05-08 07:23:49 UTC,"Cited in a talk by Yota Batsaki (Clark Library, May 7, 2011)",,2011-05-08 07:23:49 UTC,6838,18366
"","","","","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)","""His breast, where nobler passions burn, / In honest poverty, would spurn / That wealth, Oppression can bestow, / And scorn to wound a fetter'd foe.""",2011-09-02 19:09:46 UTC,Reading,,2011-09-02 19:07:16 UTC,7080,19126
"","",Metal,"","When borne at length to Western Lands,
Chain'd on the beach the Captive stands,
Where Man, dire merchandize! is sold,
And barter'd life is paid for gold;
In mute affliction, see him try
To read his new possessor's eye;
If one blest glance of mercy there,
One half-form'd tear may check despair!--
Ah, if that eye with sorrow sees
His languid look, his quiv'ring knees,
Those limbs, which scarce their load sustain,
That form, consum'd in wasting pain;
Such sorrow melts his ruthless eye
Who sees the lamb, he doom'd to die,
In pining sickness yield his life,
And thus elude the sharpen'd knife.--
Or, if where savage habit steels
The vulgar mind, one bosom feels
The sacred claim of helpless woe--
If Pity in that soil can grow;
Pity! whose tender impulse darts
With keenest force on nobler hearts;
As flames that purest essence boast,
Rise highest when they tremble most.--
Yet why on one poor chance must rest
The int'rests of a kindred breast?
Humanity's devoted cause
Recline on Humour's wayward laws?
To Passions rules must Justice bend,
And life upon Caprice depend?--
(pp. 16-18, ll. 249-278)","""Or, if where savage habit steels / The vulgar mind, one bosom feels / The sacred claim of helpless woe-- / If Pity in that soil can grow; / Pity! whose tender impulse darts / With keenest force on nobler hearts; / As flames that purest essence boast, / Rise highest when they tremble most.""",2011-09-02 19:21:06 UTC,Reading,,2011-09-02 19:21:06 UTC,7080,19128
"","","","","On Eloquence, prevailing art!
Whose force can chain the list'ning heart;
The throb of Sympathy inspire,
And kindle every great desire;
With magic energy controul
And reign the sov'reign of the soul!
That dreams while all its passions swell,
It shares the power it feels so well;
As visual objects seem possest
Of those clear hues by light imprest;
Oh, skill'd in every grace to charm,
To soften, to appal, to warm;
Fill with thy noblest rage the breast,
Bid on those lips thy spirit rest,
That shall, in BRITAIN's Senate, trace
The wrongs of AFRIC's Captive Race!--
But Fancy o'er the tale of woe
In vain one heighten'd tint would throw;
For ah, the Truth, is all we guess
Of anguish in its last excess:
Fancy may dress in deeper shade
The storm that hangs along the glade,
Spreads o'er the ruffled stream its wing,
And chills awhile the flowers of Spring:
But, where the wintry tempests sweep
In madness, o'er the darken'd deep;
Where the wild surge, the raging wave,
Point to the hopeless wretch a grave;
And Death surrounds the threat'ning shore--
Can Fancy add one horror more?
(pp. 21-3, ll. 321-350)","""On Eloquence, prevailing art! / Whose force can chain the list'ning heart; / The throb of Sympathy inspire, / And kindle every great desire; / With magic energy controul / And reign the sov'reign of the soul!""",2011-09-02 19:29:43 UTC,Reading,,2011-09-02 19:29:43 UTC,7080,19131
"","","","","Perish th' illiberal thought which would debase
The native genius of the sable race!
Perish the proud philosophy, which sought
To rob them of the powers of equal thought!
Does then th' immortal principle within
Change with the casual colour of the skin?
Does matter govern spirit? or is mind
Degraded by the form to which 'tis joined?
No: they have heads to think, and hearts to feel
And souls to act with firm, thought unerring zeal;
For they have keen affections, kind desires,
Love strong as death, and active patriot fires;
All the rude energy, the fervid flame,
Of high-souled passions, and ingenuous shame:
Strong but luxuriant virtues boldly shoot
From the wild vigour of a savage root.
Nor weak their sense of honour's proud control,
For pride is virtue in a pagan soul;
A sense of worth, a conscience of desert,
A high, unbroken haughtiness of heart:
That self-same stuff which erst proud empires swayed,
Of which the conquerors of the world were made.
Capricious fate of man! that very pride
In Afric scourg'd, in Rome was deify'd.
(ll. 59-82, p. 103 in Wood, pp. 330-1 in Lonsdale)
","""For they have keen affections, kind desires, / Love strong as death, and active patriot fires; / All the rude energy, the fervid flame, / Of high-souled passions, and ingenuous shame: / Strong but luxuriant virtues boldly shoot / From the wild vigour of a savage root.""",2012-08-14 13:25:37 UTC,Reading,,2012-08-14 13:25:37 UTC,5681,19910
"","Volume I, Chapter I","","","The count Vereza lost his father in early childhood. He was now of age, and had just entered upon the possession of his estates. His person was graceful, yet manly; his mind accomplished, and his manners elegant; his countenance expressed a happy union of spirit, dignity, and benevolence, which formed the principal traits of his character. He had a sublimity of thought, which taught him to despise the voluptuous vices of the Neapolitans, and led him to higher pursuits. He was the chosen and early friend of young Ferdinand, the son of the marquis, and was a frequent visitor in the family. When the marchioness first saw him, she treated him with great distinction, and at length made such advances, as neither the honour nor the inclinations of the count permitted him to notice. He conducted himself towards her with frigid indifference, which served only to inflame the passion it was meant to chill. The favours of the marchioness had hitherto been sought with avidity, and accepted with rapture; and the repulsive insensibility which she now experienced, roused all her pride, and called into action every refinement of coquetry.
(I.i, pp. 24-5; p. 11 in OUP edition)","""He conducted himself towards her with frigid indifference, which served only to inflame the passion it was meant to chill.""",2013-05-31 21:58:38 UTC,Reading,,2013-05-31 21:58:38 UTC,5736,20258
"","","","","The ardent imagination of Delamere instantly caught fire. He took it for granted that Fitz-Edward had carried her off: and without staying to reflect a moment, he flew to the inn where his horses were, and ordered them to be saddled; then rushing into the room where his father and sister were sitting together, he exclaimed--""she is gone, ""Sir--Emmeline is gone!--but I will soon overtake her; and the infamous villain who has torn her from me! Lord Montreville scorned to dissimulate. He answered, ""I know she is gone, and it was by my directions she went. You cannot overtake her; nor is it probable you will ever see her again. Endeavour therefore to recollect yourself, and do not forget what you owe to your family and yourself.""
(I, pp. 185-6)","""The ardent imagination of Delamere instantly caught fire.""",2013-06-14 04:05:27 UTC,Searching in C-H Lion,,2013-06-14 04:05:27 UTC,7439,20642
"","","","","A ray of fire seemed to flash across the imagination of Delamere, and to inflame all his hopes. He blushed deeply, and his voice faultering with anxiety, he cried--
""What?--who, Sir!--a young Lady? --what young Lady?""
(I, pp. 224-5)","""A ray of fire seemed to flash across the imagination of Delamere, and to inflame all his hopes.""",2013-06-14 04:06:28 UTC,Searching in C-H Lion,,2013-06-14 04:06:28 UTC,7439,20643
Added. Had skipped this verse paragraph on first reading.,"","","","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)","""O, Montagu! forgive me, if I sing / red 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.""",2013-11-17 17:12:25 UTC,Reading,,2013-11-17 17:12:25 UTC,5612,23223