work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context
3310,"",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2005-04-20 00:00:00 UTC,"But she had that which all the Force of Art
Could neither give nor take away,--an Heart,
An honest, humble, well-disposèd Will,
The true Capacity for higher Skill
Than what the World with all its learnèd Din
Could teach. She learn'd her Lesson from within,--
Plain, single Lesson of essential Kind:
The Love of God's Pure Presence in her Mind.
Her artless, innocent, attentive Thought
Was at the Source of all True Knowledge taught.
There she could read the Characters imprest
Upon the Mind of ev'ry human Breast,--
The native Laws prescrib'd to ev'ry Soul,
And Love, the One Fulfiller of the Whole.
",,8576,•I've included twice: Laws and Characters,"One may learn ""her Lesson from within"" and ""There […] read the Characters imprest / Upon the Mind of ev'ry human Breast,-- / The native Laws prescrib'd to every Soul, / And Love, the One Fulfiller of the Whole.""",Impressions and Writing,2013-11-01 21:34:00 UTC,""
5434,"","Searching ""soul"" and ""lamp"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2006-01-19 00:00:00 UTC,"The human Spirit, when it burns and shines,
""Lamp of Jehovah"" Solomon defines.
Now, as a Vessel, to contain the Whole,
This ""Lamp"" denotes the Body, Oil the Soul
(As H---observes) which, tho' itself be dark,
Is capable of Life's enkindling Spark;
But, as consider'd in its own dark Root,
Still wants the Unction and the Light's Recruit.",2006-10-30,14544,•I've included twice: Lamp and Oil
Filled in Publication information - PNH,"""The human Spirit, when it burns and shines, / 'Lamp of Jehovah"" Solomon defines. / Now, as a Vessel, to contain the Whole, / This 'Lamp' denotes the Body, Oil the Soul""","",2009-09-14 19:41:11 UTC,p.264
3206,"",Reading; found again in Google Books,2007-04-20 00:00:00 UTC,"A Penitential Soliloquy
What tho' no Objects strike upon the Sight,--
Thy Sacred Presence is an inward Light.
What tho' no Sounds should penetrate the Ear,--
To list'ning Thought the Voice of Truth is clear.
Sincere Devotion needs no outward shrine:
The Centre of an humble Soul is Thine.
There may I worship, and there may'st Thou place
Thy Seat of Mercy and Thy Throne of Grace;
Yea, fix, if Christ my Advocate appear,
The dread Tribunal of Thy Justice there!
Let each vain Thought, let each impure Desire
Meet in Thy Wrath with a consuming Fire!
Whilst the kind Rigours of a righteous Doom
All deadly Filth of selfish Pride consume,
Thou, Lord, can'st raise, tho' punishing for Sin,
The Joys of peaceful Penitence within.
Thy Justice and Thy Mercy both are sweet
That make our suff'rings and Salvation meet.
Befall me, then, whatever God shall please!
His Wounds are healing, and His Griefs give Ease;
He, like a true Physician of the Soul,
Applies the Med'cine that may make it whole.
I'll do, I'll suffer whatsoe'er He wills:
I see His Aim thro' all these transient Ills.
'Tis to infuse a salutary Grief,
To fit the Mind for absolute Relief,
That, purg'd from ev'ry false and finite Love,
Dead to the World, alive to Things above,
The Soul may rise, as in its first-form'd Youth,
And worship God ""in Spirit and in Truth.""
",2012-03-12,16974,"","""Sincere Devotion needs no outward shrine: / The Centre of an humble Soul is Thine.""","",2012-03-12 19:18:32 UTC,I've included the whole poem
3206,"",Reading; found again in Google Books.,2007-04-20 00:00:00 UTC,"A Penitential Soliloquy
What tho' no Objects strike upon the Sight,--
Thy Sacred Presence is an inward Light.
What tho' no Sounds should penetrate the Ear,--
To list'ning Thought the Voice of Truth is clear.
Sincere Devotion needs no outward shrine:
The Centre of an humble Soul is Thine.
There may I worship, and there may'st Thou place
Thy Seat of Mercy and Thy Throne of Grace;
Yea, fix, if Christ my Advocate appear,
The dread Tribunal of Thy Justice there!
Let each vain Thought, let each impure Desire
Meet in Thy Wrath with a consuming Fire!
Whilst the kind Rigours of a righteous Doom
All deadly Filth of selfish Pride consume,
Thou, Lord, can'st raise, tho' punishing for Sin,
The Joys of peaceful Penitence within.
Thy Justice and Thy Mercy both are sweet
That make our suff'rings and Salvation meet.
Befall me, then, whatever God shall please!
His Wounds are healing, and His Griefs give Ease;
He, like a true Physician of the Soul,
Applies the Med'cine that may make it whole.
I'll do, I'll suffer whatsoe'er He wills:
I see His Aim thro' all these transient Ills.
'Tis to infuse a salutary Grief,
To fit the Mind for absolute Relief,
That, purg'd from ev'ry false and finite Love,
Dead to the World, alive to Things above,
The Soul may rise, as in its first-form'd Youth,
And worship God ""in Spirit and in Truth.""
",2012-03-12,16975,"• I've included thrice: Seat, Throne, Tribunal","""There may I worship, and there may'st Thou place / Thy Seat of Mercy and Thy Throne of Grace; / Yea, fix, if Christ my Advocate appear, / The dread Tribunal of Thy Justice there!""",Court and Throne,2012-03-12 19:19:51 UTC,I've included the whole poem
7201,"",Reading in Google Books,2012-03-12 19:32:33 UTC,"O what a deal he said! and in the Light,
Wherein he plac'd it, all was really right:
But like good Doctrine, of some good Divine,
Which, while 'tis preach'd, is admirably fine,
When Doctor Gratitude had left the Spot,
All that he said was charming and forgot.
Your Doctor's Potion, Patience, and the Bark,
May hit both mental, and material Mark;
One serves to keep the Ague from the Mind,
As t'other does, from its corporeal Rind:
There is, methinks, in their respective Growth,
A fair Analogy betwixt 'em both.
For what the Bark is to the growing Tree,
To human Mind, that, Patience seems to be;
They hold the Principles of Growth together,
And blunt the Force of Accident, and Weather:
Bar'd of its Bark, a Tree, we may compute,
Will not remain much longer on its Root.
And Mind in Mortals, that are wisely will'd,
Will hardly bear to have its Patience peel'd:
Nothing, in fine, contributes more to Living,
Physic, or Food, than Patience and Thanksgiving;
Patience defends us from all outward Hap;
Of inward Life Thanksgiving is the Sap.
(p. 98)",,19641,META-METAPHORICAL,"""Your Doctor's Potion, Patience, and the Bark, / May hit both mental, and material Mark; / One serves to keep the Ague from the Mind, / As t'other does, from its corporeal Rind.""","",2012-03-12 19:32:52 UTC,""
6366,"",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2012-07-05 05:00:48 UTC,"Strong Passions draw, like Horses that are strong,
The Body-Coach of Flesh and Blood along;
While subtle Reason, with each Rein in Hand,
Sits on the Box, and has them at Command;
Rais'd up aloft, to see and to be seen,
Judges the Track, and guides the gay Machine.
But was it made for nothing else beside
Passions to draw, and Reason to be Guide?
Was so much Art employ'd to drag and drive
Nothing within the Vehicle alive?
No seated Mind, that claims the moving Pew,
Master of Passions, and of Reason too?
The grand Contrivance why so well equip
With strength of Passions, rul'd by Reason's Whip?
Vainly profuse had Apparatus been,
Did not a reigning Spirit rest within;
Which Passions carry, and sound Reason means
To render present at pre-order'd Scenes.
They who are loud in human Reason's Praise,
And celebrate the Drivers of our Days,
Seem to suppose, by their continual Bawl,
That Passions, Reason, and Machine, is all;
To them the Windows are drawn up, and clear
Nothing that does not outwardly appear.
Matter and Motion, and superior Man
By Head and Shoulders, form their reas'ning Plan.
View'd and demurely ponder'd, as they roll,
And scoring Traces on the Paper Soul,
Blank, shaven white, they fill th' unfurnish'd Pate
With new Idéas, none of them innate.
When these Adepts are got upon a Box,
Away they gallop thro' the gazing Flocks;
Trappings admir'd, and the high-mettl'd Brute
And Reason balancing its either Foot;
While seeing Eyes discern, at their Approach,
Fulness of Skill, and emptiness of Coach.
'Tis very well that lively Passions draw,
That sober Reason keeps them all in Awe,--
The one to run, the other to control,
And drive directly to the destin'd Goal.
""What Goal?""--Ay, there the Question should begin:
What Spirit drives the willing Mind within?
Sense, Reason, Passions, and the like, are still
One self-same Man, whose Action is his Will;
Whose Will, if right, will soon renounce the Pride
Of an own Reason for an only Guide;
As God's unerring Spirit shall inspire,
Will still direct the Drift of his Desire.",,19859,A metaphor in a metaphor: moving pew.,"""But was it made for nothing else beside / Passions to draw, and Reason to be Guide? / Was so much Art employ'd to drag and drive / Nothing within the Vehicle alive? / No seated Mind that claims the moving Pew, / Master of Passions, and of Reason too?""",Animals,2013-03-25 01:39:13 UTC,""
6366,"",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2012-07-05 05:02:46 UTC,"Strong Passions draw, like Horses that are strong,
The Body-Coach of Flesh and Blood along;
While subtle Reason, with each Rein in Hand,
Sits on the Box, and has them at Command;
Rais'd up aloft, to see and to be seen,
Judges the Track, and guides the gay Machine.
But was it made for nothing else beside
Passions to draw, and Reason to be Guide?
Was so much Art employ'd to drag and drive
Nothing within the Vehicle alive?
No seated Mind, that claims the moving Pew,
Master of Passions, and of Reason too?
The grand Contrivance why so well equip
With strength of Passions, rul'd by Reason's Whip?
Vainly profuse had Apparatus been,
Did not a reigning Spirit rest within;
Which Passions carry, and sound Reason means
To render present at pre-order'd Scenes.
They who are loud in human Reason's Praise,
And celebrate the Drivers of our Days,
Seem to suppose, by their continual Bawl,
That Passions, Reason, and Machine, is all;
To them the Windows are drawn up, and clear
Nothing that does not outwardly appear.
Matter and Motion, and superior Man
By Head and Shoulders, form their reas'ning Plan.
View'd and demurely ponder'd, as they roll,
And scoring Traces on the Paper Soul,
Blank, shaven white, they fill th' unfurnish'd Pate
With new Idéas, none of them innate.
When these Adepts are got upon a Box,
Away they gallop thro' the gazing Flocks;
Trappings admir'd, and the high-mettl'd Brute
And Reason balancing its either Foot;
While seeing Eyes discern, at their Approach,
Fulness of Skill, and emptiness of Coach.
'Tis very well that lively Passions draw,
That sober Reason keeps them all in Awe,--
The one to run, the other to control,
And drive directly to the destin'd Goal.
""What Goal?""--Ay, there the Question should begin:
What Spirit drives the willing Mind within?
Sense, Reason, Passions, and the like, are still
One self-same Man, whose Action is his Will;
Whose Will, if right, will soon renounce the Pride
Of an own Reason for an only Guide;
As God's unerring Spirit shall inspire,
Will still direct the Drift of his Desire.",,19860,"","""The grand Contrivance why so well equip / With strength of Passions, rul'd by Reason's Whip?""","",2012-07-05 05:02:46 UTC,""