work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context
5634,"",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2005-04-19 00:00:00 UTC,"Ah! cruel state! where hope is rack'd with fear,
That seals our bondage, as it prompts our care.
While fancy, dreaming of some better fate,
Beguiles the labour of the present state,
The fluctuant mind, by various passions tost,
Now rides aloft, and now immerg'd, is lost:
Yet after all our reason to complain,
We hug the fraud that justifies the pain;
And Hope refresh'd, like wheels fresh oil'd, pursues
Her daily task, and daily vows renews.
",,15064,•I've included twice: Ship and Ocean,"""The fluctuant mind, by various passions tost, / Now rides aloft, and now immerg'd, is lost""","",2009-09-14 19:42:40 UTC,""
7399,"",Reading,2013-06-05 19:33:39 UTC,"From short (as usual) and disturb'd repose
I wake: how happy they who wake no more!
Yet that were vain, if dreams infest the grave.
I wake, emerging from a sea of dreams
Tumultuous; where my wreck'd desponding thought,
From wave to wave of fancied misery,
At random drove, her helm of reason lost:
Though now restored, 'tis only change of pain,
(A bitter change!) severer for severe.
The Day too short for my distress; and Night,
E'en in the zenith of her dark domain,
Is sunshine to the colour of my fate.
(ll. 6-17, pp. 37 in CUP edition)",,20385,"","""I wake, emerging from a sea of dreams / Tumultuous; where my wreck'd desponding thought, / From wave to wave of fancied misery, / At random drove, her helm of reason lost.""","",2013-06-05 19:33:39 UTC,Night The First
7399,"",Reading,2013-06-05 19:54:37 UTC,"And why? Because he thinks himself immortal.
All men think all men mortal but themselves;
Themselves, when some alarming shock of Fate
Strikes through their wounded hearts the sudden dread.
But their hearts wounded, like the wounded air,
Soon close; where pass'd the shaft, no trace is found.
As from the wing no scar the sky retains,
The parted wave no furrow from the keel,
So dies in human hearts the thought of death.
E'en with the tender tear which Nature sheds
O'er those we love, we drop it in their grave.
Can I forget Philander? That were strange.
O my full heart!--But should I give it vent,
The longest night, though longer far, would fail,
And the lark listen to my midnight song.
(ll. 423-437, pp. 47-8 in CUP edition)",,20396,"","""But their hearts wounded, like the wounded air, / Soon close; where pass'd the shaft, no trace is found. / As from the wing no scar the sky retains, / The parted wave no furrow from the keel, / So dies in human hearts the thought of death.""",Animals,2013-06-11 14:45:55 UTC,Night the First
7411,"",Reading,2013-06-12 19:33:35 UTC,"This, this is thinking free,--a thought that grasps
Beyond a grain, and looks beyond an hour.
Turn up thine eye, survey this midnight scene;
What are Earth's kingdoms to yon boundless orbs,
Of human souls one day the destined range?
And what yon boundless orbs to godlike man?
Those numerous worlds that throng the firmament,
And ask more space in heaven, can roll at large
In man's capacious thought, and still leave room
For ampler orbs, for new creations, there.
Can such a soul contract itself, to gripe
A point of no dimension, of no weight?
It can: it does: the world is such a point;
And of that point, how small a part enslaves!
How small a part--of nothing, shall I say?
Why not?--Friends, our chief treasure! How they drop!
Lucia, Narcissa fair, Philander gone!
The grave, like fabled Cerberus, has oped
A triple mouth; and, in an awful voice,
Loud calls my soul, and utters all I sing.
How the world falls to pieces round about us,
And leaves us in a ruin of our joy!
What says this transportation of my friends?
It bids me love the place where now they dwell,
And scorn this wretched spot they leave so poor.
Eternity's vast ocean lies before thee;
There, there, Lorenzo, thy Clarissa sails.
Give thy mind sea-room; keep it wide of earth,
That rock of souls immortal; cut thy cord;
Weigh anchor; spread thy sails; call every wind;
Eye thy great Pole-star; make the land of life.
(ll. 1242-1272, pp. 210-11 in CUP edition)",,20589,"","""Eternity's vast ocean lies before thee; / There, there, Lorenzo, thy Clarissa sails. / Give thy mind sea-room; keep it wide of earth, / That rock of souls immortal; cut thy cord; / Weigh anchor; spread thy sails; call every wind; / Eye thy great Pole-star; make the land of life.""","",2013-06-12 19:33:35 UTC,Night the Seventh