theme,metaphor,work_id,dictionary,provenance,id,created_at,updated_at,reviewed_on,comments,text,context
"","The Soul ""sup[s] above, and cannot stay / To bait so long upon the way""",3752,"","Reading Norton Critical Edition of Seventeenth Century British Poetry, 1603-1660",9681,2006-12-15 00:00:00 UTC,2009-09-14 19:34:24 UTC,,"","PLEASURE
Welcome the creation's guest,
Lord of earth, and heaven's heir.
Lay aside that warlike crest,
And of Nature's banquet share:
Where the souls of fruits and flowers
Stand prepared to heighten yours.
SOUL
I sup above, and cannot stay
To bait so long upon the way.
(ll. 11-18)",""
"","""None can chain a mind / Whom this sweet chordage cannot bind.""",3752,Fetters,"Reading Norton Critical Edition of Seventeenth Century British Poetry, 1603-1660",9682,2006-12-15 00:00:00 UTC,2011-05-26 20:52:49 UTC,2011-05-26,"","PLEASURE
Hark how music then prepares
For thy stay these charming airs;
Which the posting winds recall,
And suspend the river's fall.
SOUL
Had I but any time to lose,
On this I would it all dispose.
Cease, tempter. None can chain a mind
Whom this sweet chordage cannot bind.
(ll. 37-44)",""
"","""O who shall, from this Dungeon, raise / A Soul inslav'd so many wayes?""",3753,Prison,Reading (after conversation with Nick at UCB),9683,2003-12-03 00:00:00 UTC,2009-09-14 19:34:24 UTC,,REVISIT and fill in information,"Soul.
O who shall, from this Dungeon, raise
A Soul inslav'd so many wayes?
With bolts of Bones, that fetter'd stands
In Feet; and manacled in Hands.
Here blinded with an Eye; and there
Deaf with the drumming of an Ear.
A Soul hung up, as 'twere, in Chains
Of Nerves, and Arteries, and Veins.
Tortur'd, besides each other part,
In a vain Head, and double Heart.
Body.
O who shall me deliver whole,
From bonds of this Tyrannic Soul?
Which, stretcht upright, impales me so,
That mine own Precipice I go;
And warms and moves this needless Frame:
(A Fever could but do the same.)
And, wanting where its spight to try,
Has made me live to let me dye.
A Body that could never rest,
Since this ill Spirit it possest.
Soul.
What Magick could me thus confine
Within anothers Grief to pine?
Where whatsoever it complain,
I feel, that cannot feel, the pain.
And all my Care its self employes,
That to preserve, which me destroys:
Constrain'd not only to indure
Diseases, but, whats worse, the Cure:
And ready oft the Port to gain,
Am Shipwrackt into Health again.
Body.
But Physick yet could never reach
The Maladies Thou me dost teach;
Whom first the Cramp of Hope does Tear:
And then the Palsie Shakes of Fear.
The Pestilence of Love does heat:
Or Hatred's hidden Ulcer eat.
Joy's chearful Madness does perplex:
Or Sorrow's other Madness vex.
Which Knowledge forces me to know;
And Memory will not foregoe.
What but a Soul could have the wit
To build me up for Sin so fit?
So Architects do square and hew,
Green Trees that in the Forest grew.
",I've included the whole poem
As it Were,"""A soul hung up as 'twere, in Chains / Of Nerves, and Arteries, and Veins.""",3753,Fetters,Reading (after conversation with Nick at UC Berkeley),9684,2003-12-03 00:00:00 UTC,2013-10-28 15:19:02 UTC,2011-05-24,"•REVISIT and fill in citation information.
•There is a complex conceit here that is not easy to atomize. INTEREST. USE in entry.
•Uses the ""as it were"" formula","Soul.
O who shall, from this Dungeon, raise
A Soul inslav'd so many wayes?
With bolts of Bones, that fetter'd stands
In Feet; and manacled in Hands.
Here blinded with an Eye; and there
Deaf with the drumming of an Ear.
A Soul hung up, as 'twere, in Chains
Of Nerves, and Arteries, and Veins.
Tortur'd, besides each other part,
In a vain Head, and double Heart.
Body.
O who shall me deliver whole,
From bonds of this Tyrannic Soul?
Which, stretcht upright, impales me so,
That mine own Precipice I go;
And warms and moves this needless Frame:
(A Fever could but do the same.)
And, wanting where its spight to try,
Has made me live to let me dye.
A Body that could never rest,
Since this ill Spirit it possest.
Soul.
What Magick could me thus confine
Within anothers Grief to pine?
Where whatsoever it complain,
I feel, that cannot feel, the pain.
And all my Care its self employes,
That to preserve, which me destroys:
Constrain'd not only to indure
Diseases, but, whats worse, the Cure:
And ready oft the Port to gain,
Am Shipwrackt into Health again.
Body.
But Physick yet could never reach
The Maladies Thou me dost teach;
Whom first the Cramp of Hope does Tear:
And then the Palsie Shakes of Fear.
The Pestilence of Love does heat:
Or Hatred's hidden Ulcer eat.
Joy's chearful Madness does perplex:
Or Sorrow's other Madness vex.
Which Knowledge forces me to know;
And Memory will not foregoe.
What but a Soul could have the wit
To build me up for Sin so fit?
So Architects do square and hew,
Green Trees that in the Forest grew.",I've included the whole poem
"","""Within this sober Frame expect / Work of no Forrain Architect ; / That unto Caves the Quarries drew, / And Forrests did to Pastures hew; / Who of his great Design in pain / Did for a Model vault his Brain, / Whose Columnes should so high be rais'd / To arch the Brows that on them gaz'd.""",3755,Rooms,Reading (after conversation with Nick at UCB),9685,2003-12-03 00:00:00 UTC,2009-12-29 05:41:34 UTC,,"•REVISIT and fill in information
•The new Norton gives for line 6: ""Design in his brain its absurdly high vaulted ceilings"" (p. 1704).
","Within this sober Frame expect
Work of no Forrain Architect ;
That unto Caves the Quarries drew,
And Forrests did to Pastures hew;
Who of his great Design in pain
Did for a Model vault his Brain,
Whose Columnes should so high be rais'd
To arch the Brows that on them gaz'd.
(ll. 1-8)",""
"","""My mind was once the true survey / Of all these meadows fresh and gay""",3756,"","Reading Norton Critical Edition of Seventeenth Century British Poetry, 1603-1660",9687,2006-12-15 00:00:00 UTC,2009-09-14 19:34:24 UTC,,"","My mind was once the true survey
Of all these meadows fresh and gay;
And in the greenness of the grass
Did see its hopes as in a glass;
When Juliana came, and she,
What I do to the grass, does to my thoughts and me.
(ll. 1-6)",""
"","""For Juliana comes, and she, / What I do to the grass, does to my thoughts and me.""",3756,"","Reading Norton Critical Edition of Seventeenth Century British Poetry, 1603-1660",9689,2006-12-15 00:00:00 UTC,2009-09-14 19:34:24 UTC,,•The refrain. Recurs in each stanza. This is the only refrain in Marvell's poetry,"But what you in compassion ought,
Shall now by my revenge be wrought:
And flowers, and grass, and I and all,
Will in one common ruin fall.
For Juliana comes, and she,
What I do to the grass, does to my thoughts and me.
(ll. 19-24)",""
"","""The apostle tells us that this love is the fulfilling of the law, not that it is enough to love our brother and so no further; but in regard of the excellency of his parts giving any motion to the other as the soul to the body and the power it hath to set all the faculties at work in the outward exercise of this duty; as when we bid one make the clock strike, he doth not lay hand on the hammer, which is the immediate instrument of the sound, but sets on work the first mover or main wheel; knowing that will certainly produce the sound which he intends.""",6669,"",Reading,17681,2010-01-22 17:53:08 UTC,2010-01-22 17:54:06 UTC,,"","Having already set forth the practice of mercy according to the rule of God's law, it will be useful to lay open the grounds of it also, being the other part of the commandment and that is the affection from which this exercise of mercy must arise. The apostle tells us that this love is the fulfilling of the law, not that it is enough to love our brother and so no further; but in regard of the excellency of his parts giving any motion to the other as the soul to the body and the power it hath to set all the faculties at work in the outward exercise of this duty; as when we bid one make the clock strike, he doth not lay hand on the hammer, which is the immediate instrument of the sound, but sets on work the first mover or main wheel; knowing that will certainly produce the sound which he intends. So the way to draw men to the works of mercy, is not by force of argument from the goodness or necessity of the work; for though this cause may enforce, a rational mind to some present act of mercy, as is frequent in experience, yet it cannot work such a habit in a soul, as shall make it prompt upon all occasions to produce the same effect, but by framing these affections of love in the heart which will as naturally bring forth the other, as any cause doth produce the effect.
(p. 211)",""
"","""Now when the soul, which is of a sociable nature, finds anything like to itself, it is like Adam when Eve was brought to him.""",6669,"",Reading,17682,2010-01-22 18:10:15 UTC,2010-01-22 18:10:15 UTC,,"","So a mother loves her child, because she thoroughly conceives a resemblance of herself in it. Thus it is between the members of Christ. Each discerns, by the work of the Spirit, his own image and resemblance in another, and therefore cannot but love him as he loves himself. Now when the soul, which is of a sociable nature, finds anything like to itself, it is like Adam when Eve was brought to him. She must be one with himself. This is flesh of my flesh (saith he) and bone of my bone. She soul conceives a great delight in it, therefore she desires nearness and familiarity with it. She hath a great propensity to do it good and receives such content in it, as fearing the miscarriage of her beloved she bestows it in the inmost closet of her heart. She will not endure that it shall want any good which she can give it. If by occasion she be withdrawn from the company of it, she is still looking towards the place where she left her beloved. If she heard it groan, she is with it presently. If she find it sad and disconsolate, she sighs and moans with it. She hath no such joy as to see her beloved merry and thriving. If she see it wronged, she cannot hear it without passion. She sets no bounds to her affections, nor hath any thought of reward. She finds recompense enough in the exercise of her love towards it.
(p. 213)",""
Interiority,"""She hath a great propensity to do it good and receives such content in it, as fearing the miscarriage of her beloved she bestows it in the inmost closet of her heart.""",6669,"",Reading,17683,2010-01-22 18:12:24 UTC,2010-01-22 18:12:24 UTC,,"","So a mother loves her child, because she thoroughly conceives a resemblance of herself in it. Thus it is between the members of Christ. Each discerns, by the work of the Spirit, his own image and resemblance in another, and therefore cannot but love him as he loves himself. Now when the soul, which is of a sociable nature, finds anything like to itself, it is like Adam when Eve was brought to him. She must be one with himself. This is flesh of my flesh (saith he) and bone of my bone. She soul conceives a great delight in it, therefore she desires nearness and familiarity with it. She hath a great propensity to do it good and receives such content in it, as fearing the miscarriage of her beloved she bestows it in the inmost closet of her heart. She will not endure that it shall want any good which she can give it. If by occasion she be withdrawn from the company of it, she is still looking towards the place where she left her beloved. If she heard it groan, she is with it presently. If she find it sad and disconsolate, she sighs and moans with it. She hath no such joy as to see her beloved merry and thriving. If she see it wronged, she cannot hear it without passion. She sets no bounds to her affections, nor hath any thought of reward. She finds recompense enough in the exercise of her love towards it.
(p. 213)",""