work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context
7400,"",Reading,2013-06-05 21:25:02 UTC,"Know'st thou, Lorenzo, what a friend contains?
As bees mix'd nectar draw from fragrant flowers,
So men, from FRIENDSHIP, wisdom and delight;
Twins tied by Nature, if they part, they die.
Hast thou no friend to set thy mind abroach?
Good sense will stagnate. Thoughts shut up want air,
And spoil, like bales unopen'd to the sun.
Had thought been all, sweet speech had been denied;
Speech, thought's canal! speech, thought's criterion too!
Thought in the mine may come forth gold or dross;
When coin'd in word, we know its real worth.
If sterling, store it for thy future use;
'Twill buy thee benefit; perhaps, renown.
Thought, too, deliver'd, is the more possess'd:
Teaching we learn; and giving we retain
The births of intellect; when dumb, forgot.
Speech ventilates our intellectual fire;
Speech burnishes our mental magazine,
Brightens for ornament, and whets for use.
What numbers, sheath'd in erudition, lie,
Plunged to the hilts in venerable tomes,
And rusted in; who might have borne an edge,
And play'd a sprightly beam, if born to speech;
If born blest heirs of half their mother's tongue!
'Tis thought's exchange which, like the' alternate push
Of waves conflicting, breaks the learned scum,
And defecates the student's standing pool.
(ll. 461-487, p. 63 in CUP edition)",,20413,"","""Speech ventilates our intellectual fire; / Speech burnishes our mental magazine, / Brightens for ornament, and whets for use.""","",2013-06-05 21:25:02 UTC,Night the Second
7665,"",Reading,2013-09-02 03:20:49 UTC,"Imagination is the Paphian shop,
Where feeble Happiness, like Vulcan, lame,
Bids foul Ideas, in their dark recess,
And hot as hell, (which kindled the black fires,)
With wanton art, those fatal arrows form
Which murder all thy time, health, wealth, and fame.
Wouldst thou receive them, other Thoughts there are,
On angel-wing, descending from above,
Which these, with art Divine, would counterwork,
And form celestial armour for thy peace.
(p. 175, ll. 994-1003)",,22640,"","""Imagination is the Paphian shop, / Where feeble Happiness, like Vulcan, lame, / Bids foul Ideas, in their dark recess, / And hot as hell, (which kindled the black fires,) / With wanton art, those fatal arrows form / Which murder all thy time, health, wealth, and fame.""",Metal,2013-09-02 03:20:49 UTC,Night the Eighth