work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context
6396,"","Searching ""mind"" and ""wax"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2005-03-27 00:00:00 UTC,"Little charm of placid mien,
Miniature of beauty's queen,
Numbering years, a scanty nine,
Stealing hearts without design,
Young inveigler, fond in wiles,
Prone to mirth, profuse in smiles,
Yet a novice in disdain,
Pleasure giving without pain,
Still caressing, still caress'd,
Thou, and all thy lovers bless'd,
Never teiz'd, and never teizing,
O for ever pleas'd and pleasing!
Hither, British muse of mine,
Hither all the Grecian nine,
With the lovely graces three,
And your promis'd nurseling see:
Figure on her waxen mind
Images of life refin'd;
Make it, as a garden gay,
Every bud of thought display,
Till, improving year by year,
The whole culture shall appear,
Voice, and speech, and action, rising,
All to human sense surprising.
Is the silken web so thin
As the texture of her skin?
Can the lilly and the rose
Such unsully'd hue disclose?
Are the violets so blue
As her veins expos'd to view?
Do the stars, in wintry sky,
Twinkle brighter than her eye?
Has the morning lark a throat
Sounding sweeter than her note?
Whoe'er knew the like before thee?
They who knew the nymph that bore thee.",2007-06-26,16881,"","""Figure on her waxen mind / Images of life refin'd.""","",2009-09-14 19:48:19 UTC,""
6397,"","Searching ""brain"" and ""cell"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2005-08-29 00:00:00 UTC,"The hermit's solace in his cell,
The fire that warms the poet's brain,
The lover's heaven, or his hell,
The madman's sport, the wise man's pain.
(p. 107)",2009-02-22,16884,"","Thought is ""The hermit's solace in his cell""",Rooms,2009-09-14 19:48:19 UTC,Epigrams and Short Poems
6397,"",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2005-08-29 00:00:00 UTC,"The hermit's solace in his cell,
The fire that warms the poet's brain,
The lover's heaven, or his hell,
The madman's sport, the wise man's pain.
(p. 107)",2009-02-22,16885,"","Thought is ""The fire that warms the poet's brain.""","",2009-09-14 19:48:19 UTC,Epigrams and Short Poems
6397,"",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2005-08-29 00:00:00 UTC,"The hermit's solace in his cell,
The fire that warms the poet's brain,
The lover's heaven, or his hell,
The madman's sport, the wise man's pain.
(p. 107)",2009-02-22,16886,"","Thought is ""The lover's heaven, or his hell.""","",2009-09-14 19:48:20 UTC,Epigrams and Short Poems
7653,"",ECCO-TCP,2013-08-25 03:49:56 UTC,"Prologue
Vertues, and Vices, are to Realms confin'd:
And, Climates give a Tincture to the Mind.
Still This, or That, Peculiar Inclination
Remains, Unalter'd;--and denotes a Nation.
Thus Rivers flow; thus Mountains, ever, stand;
The Marks, through every Age, of every Land.
Britons, you'll see, when Vanoc comes before yee,
The Love of Freedom is your ancient Glory.
The Romans, first, this Native Vertue broke;
Made us Polite;--and bow'd us to the Yoke.
The Saxons, then, Unpolish'd,--greatly Rude,
Strangers to Luxury,--and Servitude,
Reviv'd the British Manliness of Soul,
That spurns at Tyranny, nor brookes Controul.
In Time, another Set of Romans came;
And brought worse Slavery:--Though they chang'd the Name:
Tamed us with Luxuries of a different Kind;
And made plain Truth distasteful to the Mind.
By Nassaw's Aid, at last, we drive Them, hence;
And, once again, return to common Sense.",,22566,"","""Vertues, and Vices, are to Realms confin'd: / And, Climates give a Tincture to the Mind.""","",2013-08-25 03:49:56 UTC,Prologue
7653,"",ECCO-TCP,2013-08-25 03:50:46 UTC,"Cart.
If royal Lineage; if distinguish'd Blood,
Down from an ancient Race of potent Kings;
Now treasur'd in my Veins:--Now boiling high
With Injuries;--with Outrages!--that burn,
That set the very suffering Soul on Fire!--
Oh, General!--Excuse this Burst of Tears.
(I.i, p. 4)",,22567,"","""Now boiling high / With Injuries;--with Outrages!--that burn, / That set the very suffering Soul on Fire!""","",2013-08-25 03:50:46 UTC,"Act I, scene i"
7653,"",ECCO-TCP,2013-08-25 03:52:13 UTC,"Val.
Blush rather, that you are a Slave to Passion;
Subservient to the Wildness of your Will;
Which, like a Whirlwind, tears up all your Vertues;
And gives you not the Leisure to consider.
Did not the Romans civilize you?
(III.viii, p. 35)",,22568,"","""Blush rather, that you are a Slave to Passion; / Subservient to the Wildness of your Will; / Which, like a Whirlwind, tears up all your Vertues; / And gives you not the Leisure to consider.""",Fetters,2013-08-25 03:52:13 UTC,"Act III, scene viii"
7653,"",ECCO-TCP,2013-08-25 03:53:35 UTC,"Val.
What then have I endured!--Revolving Moons;
Divided from your Presence; from my Bliss.
And, do you wish already to be gone!
And, can you not allow me one short Day,
One Hour to renew my ardent Vows,
And breathe my tender Sighs once more, before you?
Those Sighs, that nightly fill my silent Tent,
And keep me waking on my lonely Couch.
Consider; Gwendolen, my lasting Passion;
A Passion, that, through Time, takes deeper Root;
A Love, that, spight of Absence, hourly grows;
In spight even of Despair:--Yet, will I not
Despair; since Fortune favours thus my Hopes.
(IV.vi, pp. 48-9)",,22569,"","""Consider; Gwendolen, my lasting Passion; / A Passion, that, through Time, takes deeper Root; / A Love, that, spight of Absence, hourly grows; / In spight even of Despair:--Yet, will I not / Despair; since Fortune favours thus my Hopes.""","",2013-08-25 03:53:35 UTC,"Act IV, scene vi"
7653,"",ECCO-TCP,2013-08-25 03:54:27 UTC,"Val.
First let me die in War;
E'er I consent to forfeit all my Hopes!--
And yet, whate'er I do, my Hopes are blasted.
That this fierce Combat in my Heart were over!--
Which way shall I decide the cruel Contest?
Perplexing Strife!--Some God determine for me!
Assist me, Princess;--Save me from Distraction.--
I would restore your Quiet,--And my own.
Deal gently with your Slave:--Allow me Time;
Some Days, to recollect my scatter'd Reason,
And wean my dearest, my most hopeless, Love!
(IV.vi, p. 50)",,22570,"","""And yet, whate'er I do, my Hopes are blasted. / That this fierce Combat in my Heart were over!""","",2013-08-25 03:54:27 UTC,"Act IV, scene vi"
7910,"","Searching in Project Gutenberg (PGDP) e-text. Confirmed in Bond.",2014-06-05 21:41:06 UTC,"What may for Strength with Steel compare?
Oh! Love has Fetters stronger far:
By Bolts of Steel are Limbs confin'd,
But cruel Love enchains the Mind.
(Cf. III, p. 378 in Bond ed.)",,23898,"","""Oh! Love has Fetters stronger far: / By Bolts of Steel are Limbs confined, / But cruel Love enchains the Mind.""",Fetters,2014-06-05 21:41:06 UTC,""