work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context
3259,"","Searching ""conque"" and ""mind"" in HDIS (Poetry); found again ""conque"" and ""heart""",2005-02-06 00:00:00 UTC,"Above the Beauties, far above the Show
In which weak Nature dresses here below,
Stands the great Palace of the Bright and Fine,
Where fair Ideas in full Glory shine,
Eternal Models of exalted Parts,
The Pride of Minds, and Conquerors of Hearts.
",2009-04-09,8517,•Cross-reference: Following entry gives another version of the same lines.,"""Fair Ideas in full Glory shine, / Eternal Models of exalted Parts, / The Pride of Minds, and Conquerors of Hearts.""",Inhabitants,2013-06-12 17:37:21 UTC,""
3267,"","Searching ""conque"" and ""heart"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2005-02-10 00:00:00 UTC,How nicely fair Phillis you manage yr slave
You neither reproach nor approve him
Just keep him in play wth ye hopes wch you leave
Not give him enough that you'le love him
Tis tyrrany ruling in love wth such art
; Own rather the cruellest meaning
If I cant have the pleasure to conquer yr heart
I shall have some at least in complaining.,2007-04-26,8526,"","""If I cant have the pleasure to conquer yr heart / I shall have some at least in complaining.""","",2009-09-14 19:33:37 UTC,""
4024,"",Reading,2003-10-21 00:00:00 UTC,"Having, therefore, so narrowly passed through this intricate difficulty, the reader will, I am sure, agree with me in the conclusion that, if the moderns mean by madness only a disturbance or transposition of the brain, by force of certain vapours issuing up from the lower faculties, then has this madness been the parent of all those mighty revolutions that have happened in empire, in philosophy, and in religion. For the brain in its natural position and state of serenity disposeth its owner to pass his life in the common forms, without any thought of subduing multitudes to his own power, his reasons, or his visions, and the more he shapes his understanding by the pattern of human learning, the less he is inclined to form parties after his particular notions, because that instructs him in his private infirmities, as well as in the stubborn ignorance of the people. But when a man’s fancy gets astride on his reason, when imagination is at cuffs with the senses, and common understanding as well as common sense is kicked out of doors, the first proselyte he makes is himself; and when that is once compassed, the difficulty is not so great in bringing over others, a strong delusion always operating from without as vigorously as from within. For cant and vision are to the ear and the eye the same that tickling is to the touch. Those entertainments and pleasures we most value in life are such as dupe and play the wag with the senses. For if we take an examination of what is generally understood by happiness, as it has respect either to the understanding or the senses we shall find all its properties and adjuncts will herd under this short definition, that it is a perpetual possession of being well deceived. And first, with relation to the mind or understanding, it is manifest what mighty advantages fiction has over truth, and the reason is just at our elbow: because imagination can build nobler scenes and produce more wonderful revolutions than fortune or Nature will be at the expense to furnish. Nor is mankind so much to blame in his choice thus determining him, if we consider that the debate merely lies between things past and things conceived, and so the question is only this: whether things that have place in the imagination may not as properly be said to exist as those that are seated in the memory? which may be justly held in the affirmative, and very much to the advantage of the former, since this is acknowledged to be the womb of things, and the other allowed to be no more than the grave. Again, if we take this definition of happiness and examine it with reference to the senses, it will be acknowledged wonderfully adapt. How sad and insipid do all objects accost us that are not conveyed in the vehicle of delusion! How shrunk is everything as it appears in the glass of Nature, so that if it were not for the assistance of artificial mediums, false lights, refracted angles, varnish, and tinsel, there would be a mighty level in the felicity and enjoyments of mortal men. If this were seriously considered by the world, as I have a certain reason to suspect it hardly will, men would no longer reckon among their high points of wisdom the art of exposing weak sides and publishing infirmities--an employment, in my opinion, neither better nor worse than that of unmasking, which, I think, has never been allowed fair usage, either in the world or the play-house.
(pp. 82-3 in OUP ed.)",2003-10-23,10426,"•Previous metaphors are replayed in this passage. I haven't extracted them and stored them in their own record.
•I've separated fancy, understanding, and imagination into three separate entries (5/29/2003).","""But when a man's fancy gets astride his reason, when imagination is at cuffs with the senses, and common understanding as well as common sense, is kicked out of doors; the first proselyte he makes is himself, and when that is once compassed the difficulty is not so great in bringing over others, a strong delusion always operating from without as vigorously as from within.""","",2013-09-11 21:32:52 UTC,""
4185,"",HDIS,2004-08-24 00:00:00 UTC,"By Music, minds an equal temper know,
Nor swell too high, nor sink too low.
If in the breast tumultuous joys arise,
Music her soft, assuasive voice applies;
Or when the soul is press'd with cares,
Exalts her in enlivening airs.
Warriors she fires with animated sounds;
Pours balm into the bleeding lover's wounds:
Melancholy lifts her head,
Morpheus rouzes from his bed,
Sloth unfolds her arms and wakes,
List'ning Envy drops her snakes;
Intestine war no more our Passions wage,
And giddy Factions hear away their rage.
",,10857,"•This entry also comes up in C-H for Smart in ""The Works of Horace"" (1767)?","When music plays, ""Intestine war no more our Passions wage, / And giddy Factions hear away their rage.""","",2009-09-14 19:35:20 UTC,""
4209,"","Searching ""conque"" and ""mind"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2005-02-06 00:00:00 UTC,"Behold! Pisander, urg'd by Fate's Decree,
Springs thro' the Ranks to fall, and fall by thee,
Great Menelaus! to enhance thy Fame,
High-tow'ring in the Front, the Warrior came.
First the sharp Lance was by Atrides thrown;
The Lance far distant by the Winds was blown.
Nor pierc'd Pisander thro' Atrides' Shield;
Pisander's Spear fell shiver'd on the Field.
Not so discourag'd, to the Future blind,
Vain Dreams of Conquest swell his haughty Mind;
Dauntless he rushes where the Spartan Lord
Like Light'ning brandish'd his far-beaming Sword.
His left Arm high oppos'd the shining Shield;
[1]His right, beneath, the cover'd Pole-Axe held;
(An Olive's cloudy Grain the Handle made,
Distinct with Studs; and brazen was the Blade)
This on the Helm discharg'd a noble Blow;
The Plume dropp'd nodding to the Plain below,
Shorn from the Crest. Atrides wav'd his Steel:
Deep thro' his Front the weighty Faulchion fell.
The crashing Bones before its Force gave way;
In Dust and Blood the groaning Hero lay;
Forc'd from their ghastly Orbs, and spouting Gore,
The clotted Eye-balls tumble on the Shore.
The fierce Atrides spurn'd him as he bled,
Tore off his Arms, and loud-exulting said.
",,10959,"","""Vain Dreams of Conquest"" may swell the haughty Mind","",2009-09-14 19:35:25 UTC,""
4209,"","Searching ""conque"" and ""heart"" in HDIS (Poetry); found again ""conque"" and ""soul""",2005-02-10 00:00:00 UTC,"[1]Hence, let us go--why waste we Time in vain?
See what Effect our low Submissions gain!
Lik'd or not lik'd, his Words we must relate,
The Greeks expect them, and our Heroes wait.
Proud as he is, that Iron-heart retains
Its stubborn Purpose, and his Friends disdains.
Stern, and unpitying! if a Brother bleed,
On just Attonement, we remit the Deed;
A Sire the Slaughter of his Son forgives;
[2]The Price of Blood discharg'd, the Murd'rer lives:
The haughtiest Hearts at length their Rage resign,
And Gifts can conquer ev'ry Soul but thine.
The Gods that unrelenting Breast have steel'd,
And curs'd thee with a Mind that cannot yield.
One Woman-Slave was ravish'd from thy Arms:
Lo, sev'n are offer'd, and of equal Charms.
Then hear, Achilles! be of better Mind;
[3]Revere thy Roof, and to thy Guests be kind;
And know the Men, of all the Grecian Host,
Who honour Worth, and prize thy Valour most.",,10960,"","""The haughtiest Hearts at length their Rage resign, / And Gifts can conquer ev'ry Soul but thine.""","",2017-02-21 06:06:01 UTC,""
4242,"","Searching ""conque"" and ""mind"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2005-02-06 00:00:00 UTC,"O still the same Ulysses! she rejoin'd,
In useful craft successfully refin'd;
Artful in speech, in action, and in mind!
Suffic'd it not, that thy long labours past
Secure thou seest thy native shore at last?
But this to me? who, like thy self excell
In arts of counsel, and dissembling well:
To me, whose wit exceeds the pow'rs divine,
No less, than mortals are surpass'd by thine:
Know'st thou not me, who made thy life my care,
Thro' ten years wandring, and thro' ten years war;
Who taught thee arts, Alcinous to persuade,
To raise his wonder, and engage his aid?
And now appear, thy treasures to protect,
Conceal thy person, thy designs direct,
And tell what more thou must from fate expect;
Domestic woes, far heavier to be born,
The pride of fools, and slaves insulting scorn.
But thou be silent, nor reveal thy state,
Yield to the force of unresisted fate,
And bear unmov'd the wrongs of base mankind,
The last and hardest conquest of the mind.",,11034,•Cross-reference: The group translation in previous entry.,"""Bear unmov'd the wrongs of base mankind, / The last, and hardest, conquest of the mind""","",2009-09-14 19:35:29 UTC,Book XIV
4269,"",HDIS (Prose),2004-01-14 00:00:00 UTC,"I had slept well in the Night, and was now no more Sea sick, but very chearful, looking with Wonder upon the Sea that was so rough and terrible the Day before, and could be so calm and so pleasant in so little time after. And now least my good Resolutions should continue, my Companion, who had indeed entic'd me away, comes to me, Well Bob, says he, clapping me upon the Shoulder, How do you do after it ?I warrant you were frighted, wa'n't you last Night, when it blew but a Cap full of ? A Cap full d'you call it ? said I, ' twas a terrible Storm :A Storm, you Fool you, replies he, do you call that a Storm, why it was nothing at all; give us but a good Ship and Sea-room, and we think nothing of such a Squal of Wind as that; but you're but a fresh Water Saillor, Bob; come let us make a Bowl of Punch and we'll forget all that; d'ye see what charming Weather 'tis now ? To make short this sad Part of my Story, we went the old way of all Sailors, the Punch was made, and I was made drunk with it, and in that one Night's Wickedness I drowned all my Repentance, all my Reflections upon my past Conduct, and all my Resolutions for my future. In a word, as the Sea was returned to its Smoothness of Surface and settled Calmness by the Abatement of that Storm, so the Hurry of my Thoughts being over, my Fears and Apprehensions of being swallow'd up by the Sea being forgotten, and the Current of my former Desires return'd, I entirely forgot the Vows and Promises that I made in my Distress. I found indeed some Intervals of Reflection, and the serious Thoughts did, as it were, endeavour to return again sometimes, but I shook them off, and rouz'd my self from them as it were from a Distemper, and applying my self to Drinking and Company, soon master'd the Return of those Fits, for so I call'd them, and I had in five or six Days got as compleat a Victory over Conscience as any young Fellow that resolv'd not to be troubled with it, could desire: But I was to have another Trial for it still; and Providence, as in such Cases generally it does, resolv'd to leave me entirely without Excuse. For if I would not take this for a Deliverance, the next was to be such a one as the worst and most harden'd Wretch among us would confess both the Danger and the Mercy.
(pp. 8-9)",2011-06-07,11147,"","""I found indeed some Intervals of Reflection, and the serious Thoughts did, as it were, endeavour to return again sometimes, but I shook them off, and rouz'd my self from them as it were from a Distemper, and applying my self to Drinking and Company, soon master'd the Return of those Fits, for so I call'd them, and I had in five or six Days got as compleat a Victory over Conscience as any young Fellow that resolv'd not to be troubled with it, could desire.""","",2011-06-07 18:20:10 UTC,""
6572,"",Reading,2009-07-09 00:00:00 UTC,"The practitioners of this famous art proceed, in general, upon the following fundamental, that the corruption of the senses is the generation of the spirit; because the senses in men are so many avenues to the fort of reason, which, in this operation, is wholly blocked up. All endeavours must be therefore used, either to divert, bind up, stupify, fluster, and amuse the senses, or else, to justle them out of their stations; and while they are either absent, or otherwise employed, or engaged in a civil war against each other, the spirit enters and performs its part.
(p. 130)",,17454,"","""All endeavours must be therefore used, either to divert, bind up, stupify, fluster, and amuse the senses, or else, to justle them out of their stations; and while they are either absent, or otherwise employed, or engaged in a civil war against each other, the spirit enters and performs its part.""","",2009-09-14 19:50:14 UTC,""
7682,"",Reading,2013-09-18 15:04:13 UTC,"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)",,22798,"","""Wit is a Standing-Army Government, / And Sense a sullen stubborn P---t.""","",2013-09-18 15:04:13 UTC,""