updated_at,reviewed_on,context,comments,theme,id,text,provenance,created_at,work_id,metaphor,dictionary
2013-08-08 15:41:12 UTC,,"","","",10306,"Curse on the unpardoning prince, whom tears can draw
To no remorse; who rules by lions' law;
And, deaf to prayers, by no submission bowed,
Rends all alike, the penitent and proud!""
At this, with look serene, he raised his head;
Reason resumed her place, and passion fled.
Then thus aloud he spoke: ""The power of Love,
In earth, and seas, and air, and heaven above,
Rules, unresisted, with an awful nod;
By daily miracles declared a god:
He blinds the wise, gives eyesight to the blind,
And moulds and stamps anew the lover's mind.
Behold that Arcite, and this Palamon,
Freed from my fetters, and in safety gone,
What hindered either, in their native soil,
At ease to reap the harvest of their toil?
But Love, their lord, did otherwise ordain,
And brought them, in their own despite again,
To suffer death deserved; for well they know,
'Tis in my power, and I their deadly foe.
The proverb holds,--that to be wise, and love,
Is hardly granted to the gods above.
See how the madmen bleed! behold the gains
With which their master, Love, rewards their pains!
For seven long years, on duty every day,
Lo their obedience, and their monarch's pay:
Yet, as in duty bound, they serve him on;
And, ask the fools, they think it wisely done;
Nor ease, nor wealth, nor life itself, regard;
For 'tis their maxim,--Love is love's reward.
This is not all,--the fair, for whom they strove,
Nor knew before, nor could suspect their love,
Nor thought, when she beheld the fight from far,
Her beauty was the occasion of the war.
But sure a general doom on man is past,
And all are fools and lovers, first or last:
This, both by others and myself, I know,
For I have served their sovereign long ago;
Oft have been caught within the winding train
Of female snares, and felt the lover's pain,
And learned how far the god can human hearts constrain.
To this remembrance, and the prayers of those,
Who for the offending warriors interpose,
I give their forfeit lives, on this accord,
To do me homage, as their sovereign lord;
And, as my vassals, to their utmost might,
Assist my person, and assert my right.""
This freely sworn, the knights their grace obtained;
Then thus the king his secret thoughts explained:--
""If wealth, or honour, or a royal race,
Or each, or all, may win a lady's grace,
Then either of you, knights, may well deserve
A princess born; and such is she you serve:
For Emily is sister to the crown,
And but too well to both her beauty known.
But should you combat till you both were dead,
Two lovers cannot share a single bed.
As therefore both are equal in degree,
The lot of both be left to Destiny.
Now hear the award, and happy may it prove
To her, and him who best deserves her love.
Depart from hence in peace, and free as air,
Search the wide world, and where you please repair;
But on the day when this returning sun
To the same point through every sign has run,
Then each of you his hundred knights shall bring,
In royal lists, to fight before the king;
And then the knight, whom Fate, or happy Chance,
Shall with his friends to victory advance,
And grace his arms so far in equal fight,
From out the bars to force his opposite,
Or kill, or make him recreant on the plain,
The prize of valour and of love shall gain;
The vanquished party shall their claim release,
And the long jars conclude in lasting peace.
The charge be mine to adorn the chosen ground,
The theatre of war for champions so renowned;
And take the patron's place of either knight,
With eyes impartial to behold the fight;
And heaven of me so judge, as I shall judge aright.
If both are satisfied with this accord,
Swear, by the laws of knighthood, on my sword.""","Searching ""stamp"" and ""mind"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2005-04-06 00:00:00 UTC,3957,"""He blinds the wise, gives eyesight to the blind, / And moulds and stamps anew the lover's mind.""",Impressions
2011-07-18 18:20:54 UTC,2011-07-18,"",•I've included twice: once in Government and once in Uncategorized.,"",11429,"The Passions still Predominant will Rule,
Ungovern'd, Rude, not Bred in Reason's School;
Our Understanding They with Darkness fill,
Cause strong Corruptions, and pervert the Will;
On These the Soul, as on some Flowing Tide,
Must sit, and on the raging Billows Ride,
Hurry'd away, for how can be withstood
Th' Impetuous Torrent of the boyling Blood?
Begon false Hopes, for all our Learning's Vain,
Can we be free, where These the Rule Maintain?
These are the Tools of Knowledge which we use;
The Spirits heated will strange Things produce;
Tell me who e'er the Passions cou'd Controul,
Or from the Body disengage the Soul;
Till this is done, our best Pursuits are vain
To conquer Truth and unmix'd Knowledge Gain.
Thro' all the bulky Volums of the Dead,
And thro' those Books that Modern Times have Bred.
With pain we Travel, as thro' moorish Ground,
Where scarce one useful Plant is ever found;
O'rerun with Errors which so thick appear,
Our Search proves vain, no spark of Truth is there.
(pp. 4-5)","Searching ""rule"" and ""reason"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2004-06-22 00:00:00 UTC,4353,"""The Passions still predominant will rule, / Ungovern'd, rude, not bred in Reason's School.""",""
2011-07-18 18:40:50 UTC,,"","","",18907,"UNHAPPY Man! Who thro' successive Years
From early Youth to Life's last Childhood Errs;
No sooner Born, but proves a Foe to Truth;
For Infant Reason is o'er power'd in Youth:
The Cheats of Sense will half our Learning share;
And Pre-Conceptions all our Knowledge are.
Reason, 'tis true, shou'd over Sense Preside,
Correct our Notions, and our Judgment Guide;
But false Opinions, rooted in the Mind,
Hoodwink the Soul, and keep our Reason Blind.
Reason's a Taper, which but faintly burns,
A languid Flame that glows and dyes by Turns;
We see't a while, and but a little Way,
We Travel by its Light as Men by Day.
But quickly Dying, it forsakes us soon,
Like Morning Stars, that never stay till Noon.
(pp. 3-4)",Reading,2011-07-18 18:40:50 UTC,4353,"""But quickly Dying, [reason] forsakes us soon, / Like Morning Stars, that never stay till Noon.""",""
2013-06-26 16:03:25 UTC,,"",Trade? Interesting stanza. The mind is a ship? Or is the mind on board some ship.,"",18909,"Those who wou'd Learning's glorious Kingdom find,
The dear bought Purchase of the Trading Mind;
From many Dangers must themselves acquit,
And more than Scylla and Charibdis meet;
Oh! What an Ocean must be Voyag'd o're,
To Gain a Prospect of the shining Shore;
Resisting Rocks oppose th' Inquiring Soul,
And adverse Waves retard it as they Rowl.
(p. 9)",Reading,2011-07-18 18:52:40 UTC,4353,"The ""Trading Mind"" must voyage over an Ocean, but ""Resisting Rocks oppose th' Inquiring Soul, / And adverse Waves retard it as they Rowl.""",""
2014-01-22 16:24:04 UTC,,"","","",19306,"But before I come to speak to these Two particulars, I shall take notice of the description which the Apostle here makes, of the change from a state of Sin and Vice to a state of Holiness and Virtue. But now being made free from sin, and become the servants of God; intimating that the state of Sin is a state of Servitude and Slavery, from which Repentence and the change which is thereby made does set us free; But now being made free from sin. And so our Saviour tells us, that whosoever committeth sin is the Servant of sin; and this is the vilest and hardest Slavery in the World, because it is the Servitude of the Soul, the best and noblest part of our selves; 'tis the subjection of our Reason, which ought to rule and bear Sway over the inferiour Faculties, to our sensual Appetites and brutish Passions; which is as uncomely a sight, as to see Beggars ride on Horse-back, and Princes walk on foot. And as Inferiour Persons, when they are advanced to Power, are strangely Insolent and Tyrannical towards those that are subject to them; so the Lusts and Passions of men, when they once get the Command of them, are the most domineering Tyrants in the World; and there is no such Slave as a Man that is subject to his Appetite and Lust, that is under the Power of irregular Passions and vicious Inclinations, which transport and hurry him to the vilest and most unreasonable things. For a wicked Man is a Slave to as many Masters as he hath Passions and Vices; and they are very imperious and exacting, and the more he yields to them, the more they grow upon him, and exercise the greater Tyranny over him: and being subject to so many Masters, the poor Slave is continually divided and distracted between their contrary Commands and Impositions; one Passion hurries him one way, and another as violently drives him another; one Lust commands him upon such a Service, and another it may be at the same time calls him to another Work. His Pride and Ambition bids him spend and lay it out, whilst his Covetousness holds his Hand fast closed; so that he knows not many times how to dispose of himself or what to do, he must displease some of his Masters, and what Inclination soever he contradicts, he certainly displeaseth himself.
(II, pp. 52-3; cf. 227-9 in 1700 ed.)",Searching in Google Books,2011-10-28 19:07:24 UTC,7124,"""And so our Saviour tells us, that 'whosoever committeth sin is the Servant of sin'; and this is the vilest and hardest Slavery in the World, because it is the Servitude of the Soul, the best and noblest part of our selves; 'tis the subjection of our Reason, which ought to rule and bear Sway over the inferiour Faculties, to our sensual Appetites and brutish Passions; which is as uncomely a sight, as to see Beggars ride on Horse-back, and Princes walk on foot.""",Fetters
2013-07-11 18:23:32 UTC,,"","","",21656,"Here walk'd a Fellow with a long white Rod on his Shoulder, that's asham'd to cry his Trade, though he gets his Living by it; another bawling out TODD's Four Volumes in Print, which a Man in Reading of, wou'd wonder that so much Venom should not tear him to pieces, but that some of the ancient Moralists have observed, that the Rankest Poyson may be kept in an Asses Hoof, or a Fool's Bosom. Some say, the first Word he spoke was Rascal, and that if he lives to have Children, they will all speak the same Dialect, and have a Natural Antipathy to Eggs, because their Father was palted with hundreds of them, when he was dignified on the Pillory.
(pp. 110-1)",C-H Lion,2013-07-11 18:23:19 UTC,7539,"""Here walk'd a Fellow with a long white Rod on his Shoulder, that's asham'd to cry his Trade, though he gets his Living by it; another bawling out TODD's Four Volumes in Print, which a Man in Reading of, wou'd wonder that so much Venom should not tear him to pieces, but that some of the ancient Moralists have observed, that the Rankest Poyson may be kept in an Asses Hoof, or a Fool's Bosom.""",""
2013-07-11 18:24:21 UTC,,"","","",21657,"But I find nothing will be lost. There sits a Gentleman in the corner of a quite different Temper, who takes every thing upon himself, that was meant to another. He Blushes, he grows Pale, he's out of Countenance; at last quits the Room, and as he goes out, threatens all the Company with his Eyes. What does the World think of this holding up the Buckler, they put but a bad Construction upon it, and say that his Conscience is Ulcerated, that you cannot touch any String, but it will answer to some painful place. Touch a Gall'd Horse and He'll Wince. In a word, he's wounded all over, because he's all over Sensible of Pain.
(pp. 153-4)",C-H Lion,2013-07-11 18:24:21 UTC,7539,"""What does the World think of this holding up the Buckler, they put but a bad Construction upon it, and say that his Conscience is Ulcerated, that you cannot touch any String, but it will answer to some painful place.""",""
2013-09-18 14:40:28 UTC,,"","FIXING TYPO in C-H Lion: ""rarisy'd""","",22794,"Wit, like a hasty Flood, may over-run us,
And too much Sense has oftentimes undone us:
Wit is a Flux, a Looseness of the Brain,
And Sense-abstract has too much Pride to reign:
Wit-unconcoct is the Extream of Sloth,
And too much Sense is the Extream of both;
Abstracted-Wit 'Tis own'd is a Disease,
But Sense-abstracted has no Power to please:
For Sense, like Water, is but Wit condense,
And Wit, like Air, is rarify'd from Sense:
Meer Sense is sullen; stiff, and unpolite,
Meer Wit is Apoplectick, thin, and light:
Wit is a King without a Parliament,
And Sense a Democratick Government:
Wit, like the French, wher'e'er it reigns destroys,
And Sense advant'd is apt to Tyrannize:
Wit without Sense is like the Laughing-Evil,
And Sense unmix'd with Fancy is the D---l.
Wit is a Standing-Army Government,
And Sense a sullen stubborn P---t:
Wit by its haste anticipates its Fate,
And so does Sense by being obstinate:
Wit without Sense in Verse is all but Farce,
Sense without Wit in Verse is all mine A---.
Wit, like the French, performs before it thinks,
And thoughtful Sense without Performance sinks;
Sense without Wit is Flegmatick and pale,
And is all Head, forsooth, without a Tail:
Wit without Sense is Cholerick and Red,
Has Tail enough indeed, but has no Head.
Wit, like the jangling Chimes, rings all in one,
Till Sense, the Artist, sets them into Tune:
Wit, like the Belly, if it be not fed,
Will starve the Members, and distract the Head.
Wit is the Fruitful Womb where Thoughts conceive,
Sense is the Vital Heat which Life and Form must give:
Wit is the Teeming Mother brings them forth,
Sense is the Active Father gives them Worth.
United: Wit and Sense, makes Science thrive,
Divided: neither Wit nor Sense can live;
For while the Parties eagerly contend,
The Mortal Strife must in their mutual Ruin end.
(pp. 165-7, ll. 353-394)",Reading,2013-09-18 14:37:46 UTC,7682,"""For Sense, like Water, is but Wit condense, / And Wit, like Air, is rarify'd from Sense.""",""
2013-09-18 15:02:12 UTC,,"","","",22797,"Wit, like a hasty Flood, may over-run us,
And too much Sense has oftentimes undone us:
Wit is a Flux, a Looseness of the Brain,
And Sense-abstract has too much Pride to reign:
Wit-unconcoct is the Extream of Sloth,
And too much Sense is the Extream of both;
Abstracted-Wit 'Tis own'd is a Disease,
But Sense-abstracted has no Power to please:
For Sense, like Water, is but Wit condense,
And Wit, like Air, is rarify'd from Sense:
Meer Sense is sullen; stiff, and unpolite,
Meer Wit is Apoplectick, thin, and light:
Wit is a King without a Parliament,
And Sense a Democratick Government:
Wit, like the French, wher'e'er it reigns destroys,
And Sense advanc'd is apt to Tyrannize:
Wit without Sense is like the Laughing-Evil,
And Sense unmix'd with Fancy is the D---l.
Wit is a Standing-Army Government,
And Sense a sullen stubborn P---t:
Wit by its haste anticipates its Fate,
And so does Sense by being obstinate:
Wit without Sense in Verse is all but Farce,
Sense without Wit in Verse is all mine A---.
Wit, like the French, performs before it thinks,
And thoughtful Sense without Performance sinks;
Sense without Wit is Flegmatick and pale,
And is all Head, forsooth, without a Tail:
Wit without Sense is Cholerick and Red,
Has Tail enough indeed, but has no Head.
Wit, like the jangling Chimes, rings all in one,
Till Sense, the Artist, sets them into Tune:
Wit, like the Belly, if it be not fed,
Will starve the Members, and distract the Head.
Wit is the Fruitful Womb where Thoughts conceive,
Sense is the Vital Heat which Life and Form must give:
Wit is the Teeming Mother brings them forth,
Sense is the Active Father gives them Worth.
United: Wit and Sense, makes Science thrive,
Divided: neither Wit nor Sense can live;
For while the Parties eagerly contend,
The Mortal Strife must in their mutual Ruin end.
(pp. 165-7, ll. 353-394)",Reading,2013-09-18 15:02:12 UTC,7682,"""Wit without Sense is like the Laughing-Evil, / And Sense unmix'd with Fancy is the D---l.""",""
2014-05-26 20:19:34 UTC,,"",USE IN ENTRY?,"",23861,"Then, Death, so call'd, is but old Matter dress'd
In some new Figure, and a vary'd Vest:
Thus all Things are but alter'd, nothing dies;
And here and there th' unbodied Spirit flies,
By Time, or Force, or Sickness dispossest,
And lodges, where it lights, in Man or Beast;
Or hunts without, till ready Limbs it find,
And actuates those according to their kind;
From Tenement to Tenement is toss'd;
The Soul is still the same, the Figure only lost:
And, as the soften'd Wax new Seals receives,
This Face assumes, and that Impression leaves;
Now call'd by one, now by another Name;
The Form is only chang'd, the Wax is still the same:
So Death, so call'd, can but the Form deface,
Th' immortal Soul flies out in empty space;
To seek her Fortune in some other Place.
(p. 512, cf. p. 821 in OUP)",Reading,2014-05-26 20:19:34 UTC,7163,"""And, as the soften'd Wax new Seals receives, / This Face assumes, and that Impression leaves; / Now call'd by one, now by another Name; / The Form is only chang'd, the Wax is still the same.""",Impressions