theme,metaphor,work_id,dictionary,provenance,id,created_at,updated_at,reviewed_on,comments,text,context
"","""O keep the dear impression on your breast, / Nor idly loose it for a wretched jest.",4757,Impressions,"Searching ""breast"" and ""impression"" in HDIS (Poetry)",12587,2005-05-20 00:00:00 UTC,2013-06-28 15:15:47 UTC,,•C-H lists in Poetry,"In Greece and Rome, I watch'd the public weal,
The purple tyrant trembled at my steel:
Nor did I less o'er private sorrows reign,
And mend the melting heart with softer pain.
On France and you then rose my brightening star,
With social ray--The arts are ne'er at war.
O, as your fire and genius stronger blaze,
As yours are generous Freedom's bolder lays,
Let not the Gallic taste leave yours behind,
In decent manners and in life refined;
Banish the motley mode to tag low verse,
The laughing ballad to the mournful hearse.
When through five acts your hearts have learnt to glow,
Touch'd with the sacred force of honest woe;
O keep the dear impression on your breast,
Nor idly loose it for a wretched jest.",""
"","""My Brother talks for ever of the Passion, / That fires young Tancred's Breast.""",7490,"",Searching in C-H Lion,21235,2013-06-28 14:23:32 UTC,2013-06-28 14:23:32 UTC,,"","LAURA.
No, Sigismunda,'tis the strictest Truth,
Nor half the Truth, I tell you. Even with Fondness
My Brother talks for ever of the Passion,
That fires young Tancred's Breast. So much it strikes him,
He praises Love as if he were a Lover.
He blames the false Pursuits of vagrant Youth,
Calls them gay Folly, a mistaken Struggle
Against best-judging Nature. Heaven, he says,
In lavish Bounty form'd the Heart for Love;
In Love included all the finer Seeds
Of Honour, Virtue, Friendship, purest Bliss--
(I.i)","Act I, scene i"
"","""He says that, tho' he were not nobly born, / Nature has form'd him noble, generous, brave, / Truely magnanimous, and warmly scorning / Whatever bears the smallest Taint of Baseness: / That every easy Virtue is his own; / Not learnt by painful Labour, but inspir'd, / Implanted in his Soul.""",7490,"",Searching in C-H Lion,21236,2013-06-28 14:25:01 UTC,2013-06-28 14:25:01 UTC,,"","LAURA.
He says that, tho' he were not nobly born,
Nature has form'd him noble, generous, brave,
Truely magnanimous, and warmly scorning
Whatever bears the smallest Taint of Baseness:
That every easy Virtue is his own;
Not learnt by painful Labour, but inspir'd,
Implanted in his Soul--Chiefly one Charm
He in his graceful Character observes:
That tho' his Passions burn with high Impatience,
And sometimes, from a noble Heat of Nature,
Are ready to fly off, yet the least Check
Of ruling Reason brings them back to Temper,
And gentle Softness.
(I.i)",""
"","Chiefly one Charm / He in his graceful Character observes: / That tho' his Passions burn with high Impatience, / And sometimes, from a noble Heat of Nature, / Are ready to fly off, yet the least Check / Of ruling Reason brings them back to Temper, / And gentle Softness.""",7490,"",C-H Lion,21237,2013-06-28 14:28:00 UTC,2013-06-28 14:28:00 UTC,,"","LAURA.
He says that, tho' he were not nobly born,
Nature has form'd him noble, generous, brave,
Truely magnanimous, and warmly scorning
Whatever bears the smallest Taint of Baseness:
That every easy Virtue is his own;
Not learnt by painful Labour, but inspir'd,
Implanted in his Soul--Chiefly one Charm
He in his graceful Character observes:
That tho' his Passions burn with high Impatience,
And sometimes, from a noble Heat of Nature,
Are ready to fly off, yet the least Check
Of ruling Reason brings them back to Temper,
And gentle Softness.
(I.i)","Act I, scene i"
"","""The Duties of his Day / Were all discharg'd, and gratefully enjoy'd / It's noblest Blessings; calm, as Evening Skies, / Was his pure Mind, and lighted up with Hopes / That open Heaven; when, for his last long Sleep / Timely prepar'd, a Lassitude of Life, / A pleasing Weariness of mortal Joy, / Fell on his Soul, and down he sunk to Rest.""",7490,"",C-H Lion,21238,2013-06-28 14:30:17 UTC,2013-06-28 14:30:17 UTC,,"","SIFFREDI.
'Tis true. But at his Years
Death gives short Notice--Dropping Nature then,
Without a Gust of Pain to shake it, falls.
His Death, my Daughter, was that happy Period
Which few attain. The Duties of his Day
Were all discharg'd, and gratefully enjoy'd
It's noblest Blessings; calm, as Evening Skies,
Was his pure Mind, and lighted up with Hopes
That open Heaven; when, for his last long Sleep
Timely prepar'd, a Lassitude of Life,
A pleasing Weariness of mortal Joy,
Fell on his Soul, and down he sunk to Rest.
O may my Death be such!--He but one Wish
Left unfulfill'd, which was to see Count Tancred
(I.ii, 13-26)","Act I, scene ii"
"","""But when the Practice comes; when our fond Passions, / Pleasure and Pride and Self-Indulgence throw / Their magic Dust around, the Prospect roughens: / Then dreadful Passes, craggy Mountains rise, / Cliffs to be scal'd, and Torrents to be stem'd.""",7490,"",C-H Lion,21239,2013-06-28 14:31:42 UTC,2013-06-28 14:31:42 UTC,,"","SIFFREDI.
Ah, my Tancred,
Nothing so easy as in Speculation,
And at a distance seen, the Course of Honour,
A fair delightful Champian strew'd with Flowers.
But when the Practice comes; when our fond Passions,
Pleasure and Pride and Self-Indulgence throw
Their magic Dust around, the Prospect roughens:
Then dreadful Passes, craggy Mountains rise,
Cliffs to be scal'd, and Torrents to be stem'd:
Then Toil ensues, and Perseverance stern;
And endless Combats with our grosser Sense,
Oft lost, and oft renew'd; and generous Pain
For others felt; and, harder Lesson still!
Our honest Bliss for others sacrific'd;
And all the rugged Task of Virtue quails
The stoutest Heart of common Resolution.
Few get above this turbid Scene of Strife,
Few gain the Summit, breathe that purest Air,
That heavenly Ether, which untroubled sees
The Storm of Vice and Passion rage below.
(I.iv, ll. 162-182)","Act I, scene iv"
"","""Few get above this turbid Scene of Strife, / Few gain the Summit, breathe that purest Air, / That heavenly Ether, which untroubled sees / The Storm of Vice and Passion rage below.""",7490,"",C-H Lion,21240,2013-06-28 14:32:54 UTC,2013-06-28 14:32:54 UTC,,"","SIFFREDI.
Ah, my Tancred,
Nothing so easy as in Speculation,
And at a distance seen, the Course of Honour,
A fair delightful Champian strew'd with Flowers.
But when the Practice comes; when our fond Passions,
Pleasure and Pride and Self-Indulgence throw
Their magic Dust around, the Prospect roughens:
Then dreadful Passes, craggy Mountains rise,
Cliffs to be scal'd, and Torrents to be stem'd:
Then Toil ensues, and Perseverance stern;
And endless Combats with our grosser Sense,
Oft lost, and oft renew'd; and generous Pain
For others felt; and, harder Lesson still!
Our honest Bliss for others sacrific'd;
And all the rugged Task of Virtue quails
The stoutest Heart of common Resolution.
Few get above this turbid Scene of Strife,
Few gain the Summit, breathe that purest Air,
That heavenly Ether, which untroubled sees
The Storm of Vice and Passion rage below.
(I.iv, ll. 162-182)","Act I, scene iv"
"","""My fluttering Soul was all on Wing to find Thee, / My Love! my Sigismunda!""",7490,Animals,C-H Lion,21241,2013-06-28 14:33:49 UTC,2013-06-28 14:33:49 UTC,,"","TANCRED.
My fluttering Soul was all on Wing to find Thee,
My Love! my Sigismunda!
(I.vi) ",""
"","""I bow, Lord Constable, beneath the Snow / Of many Years; yet in my Breast revives / A youthful Flame.""",7490,"",C-H Lion,21242,2013-06-28 14:35:58 UTC,2013-06-28 14:35:58 UTC,,"","2nd BARON.
O beauteous Peace!
Sweet Union of a State! What else, but Thou,
Gives Safety, Strength, and Glory to a People
I bow, Lord Constable, beneath the Snow
Of many Years; yet in my Breast revives
A youthful Flame. Methinks, I see again
Those gentle Days renew'd, that bless'd our Isle,
Ere by this wasteful Fury of Division,
Worse than our Ætna's most destructive Fires,
It desolated, sunk. I see our Plains
Unbounded waving with the Gifts of Harvest;
Our Seas with Commerce throng'd, our busy Ports
With chearful Toil. Our Enna blooms afresh;
Afresh the Sweets of thymy Hybla flow.
Our Nymphs and Shepherds, sporting in each Vale,
Inspire new Song, and wake the pastoral Reed--
The Tongue of Age is fond--Come, come, my Sons
I long to see this Prince, of whom the World
Speaks largely well--His Father was my Friend,
The brave unhappy Manfred --Come, my Lords;
We tarry here too long.
(II.iv)",""
"","""Distraction!--O my Soul!--Hold, Reason, hold / Thy giddy Seat--O this inhuman Outrage / Unhinges Thought!""",7490,Throne,C-H Lion,21243,2013-06-28 14:37:02 UTC,2013-06-28 14:37:02 UTC,,"","TANCRED.
Distraction!--O my Soul!--Hold, Reason, hold
Thy giddy Seat--O this inhuman Outrage
Unhinges Thought!
(II.viii)",""