id,dictionary,theme,reviewed_on,metaphor,created_at,provenance,comments,work_id,text,context,updated_at
15114,Metal,Dualism,2011-06-20,"""So poignant a mind in a vulgariz'd shell,/ Resembles a bucket of gold in a well; / 'Tis like Ceylon's best spice in a rude-fashion'd jar, / Or Comedy coop'd in a Dutch man of war.""",2005-05-27 00:00:00 UTC,"Searching ""mind"" and ""gold"" in HDIS (Poetry)","•I've included twice: Metal and Uncategorized
• Reviewed 2009-03-05
• I've nowconsolidated 3 entries in one.
",5658,"Mrs. WEBB.
Like a lusty old Sybil, who rambles elate,
With a raven-ton'd voice, to anticipate Fate;
Mark Webb, like a whale, bear her fatness before her,
As the sprats of the Drama for mercy implore her;
Her high-garnish'd phiz give young Pleasantries birth,
And her well-fed abdomen's a mountain of mirth:
See the coarse-hewn old Dowager's mix'd with the rest,
Like a piece of brown dowlas near lace from Trieste;
And darts her huge beak for the prizes and pickings,
As an overgrown hen amidst delicate chickens:
Impertinent Doubts run to measure her size,
While Temperance looks at her frame with surprise.
Her airs are as harsh as a Brighthelmstone dipper,
And loosely assum'd like a pantaloon's slipper;
Tho' base without force, like the oath of a harlot,
Or the impudent grin of a shoulder-deck'd varlet.--
This mould of the fair sex is true female stuff,
And warm at the heart, tho' her--manners are rough:
Like Queen Bess she disdains the resistance of man,
And knocks down a peer with the end of her fan;
Old Care knits his brows to coerce and impale her,
And eyes her with hatred, but dare not assail her.
For social contumely cares not a fig,
For if none call her great, all the world swears she's big.
She's a beef-lin'd adherent to thundering Rage,
And a prop of vast import to Wit and the stage;
But Bards have too potently season'd her song,
Which like garlic in soup makes the pottage too strong:
For by playing old furies so apt and so often,
No human device can the habitude soften;
Thus an exotic sapling we frequently see,
When engrafted by Art, become part of the tree.--
So poignant a mind in a vulgariz'd shell,
Resembles a bucket of gold in a well;
'Tis like Ceylon's best spice in a rude-fashion'd jar,
Or Comedy coop'd in a Dutch man of war.","",2011-06-20 16:33:37 UTC
15118,"","",,"A mind may be like ""clear amber, conden'd by stagnation,"" it may exhibit ""the dirt it imbib'd in formation""",2005-06-22 00:00:00 UTC,"Posted to C18-L Listserv by Nora Nachumi under Subject: ""ungender'd abortions""","",5658,"her mind like clear amber, conden'd by stagnation,
Exhibits the dirt it imbib'd in formation:
Like ungender'd abortions, her plays have annoy'd;
Which are born, see the light, and, when seen, are destroy'd.","",2009-09-14 19:42:49 UTC
15121,"","",,"""The Muses, tho' coy to the rest of mankind, / Ran jocund to light the vast caves of [Shakespeare's] mind""",2006-01-18 00:00:00 UTC,"Searching ""mind"" and ""cave"" in HDIS (Poetry)","",5658,"E'en that august Bard must my senses resign,
Imperial Shakespeare, supreme and divine.
As the clay of his frame lay benumb'd in a dream,
On the violet-clad bank of smooth Avon's clear stream,
The Genius of Albion defended his slumbers,
Lest Guilt should obtrude, and disjoint his sweet numbers:
The Muses, tho' coy to the rest of mankind,
Ran jocund to light the vast caves of his mind;
Bore his harp to Minerva, who marshall'd its sound,
And hung Fancy's elegant symbols around;
As the sacred minstrel imbib'd in his thought,
All that Destiny will'd, or that Heaven had wrought;
With his keen mental eye Nature's source to discern,
Pass'd o'er the dread fence of Mortality's bourn;
Presum'd thro' the mists of Tartarean gloom,
And hail'd the lean Fates at their ominous loom;
Dash'd the horrors he saw with his spell working pen,
Then awoke with the scroll to raise wonder mid men.--
But should I lament in prophetic despair,
Should my song be replete with the axioms of care;
When a Star in the East, all resplendently rises,
Which Phoebus illumines, and Excellence prizes?
Its appearance proclaims that Offence is suppress'd,
That Candour shall govern, and Talents be bless'd:
So in Bethlem the light 'midst the peasantry shone,
And gave to Hope's bosom sweet transports unknown;
Its radiant beam waken'd Raptures within,
And promis'd Redemption from Sadness and Sin.--
--May no mean narrow maxims oppose its progression,
May no sinister tyrants enchain the profession;
May its influence be broad as the realms of the day,
Where Wit, without insult, may offer his lay;
May its members be brilliant in wish and in action,
May theit deeds give the lie to the page of detraction;
May the lovely Pierides temper their fire,
And point out those chords on the Orphean lyre,
By which the young Thracian subdu'd the wild throng,
And forc'd savage Nature to melt at his song.
May its base by the wealthy and wise be supported,
May its firmest adherents be cherish'd and courted;
May the smiles of Morality shield its good name,
And the pen of bright Genius consign it to Fame!","",2009-09-14 19:42:49 UTC
15257,"","",,""" 'Tis thine to sprinkle manna o'er the mind""",2004-07-12 00:00:00 UTC,"",
,5724,"Is there no eminent revenge above,
For violated oaths and perjur'd love?
Shall ruthless man our miseries begin,
Yet wanton irresponsive to the sin?
The brilliant reptile marshall'd every art,
To brave the prejudice and seize my heart.
False as Amphissian waves his accents flow'd,
Which hide Destruction 'neath the liquid road:
With cruel skill he bent the servile knee,
And stood, like Ruin, 'twixt my good and me.
His toils, like furies in th' Æolian wind,
Bestorm'd the placid current of my mind;
And made th' ideal billows, raging, rise,
Till their rude vehemence had brav'd the skies:
So quick th' Enormities ingulph'd me in,
I look'd a Demon ere I knew the sin.
Once Hope, in garish raiments, cheer'd my eye,
Renerv'd my wish, and check'd the unborn sigh:
Ah, sweet Seducer! whither art thou flown?
While social Demons seize thy silver throne;
'Tis thine to sprinkle manna o'er the mind,
'Tis thine to temper the ferocious wind,
'Tis thine to renovate the fancy's springs,
Raise the worn maid, and glad despairing kings.
","",2009-09-14 19:43:10 UTC
15258,"","",,""" 'Tis thine to renovate the fancy's springs""",2004-07-12 00:00:00 UTC,Found again searching HDIS (Poetry),
,5724,"Is there no eminent revenge above,
For violated oaths and perjur'd love?
Shall ruthless man our miseries begin,
Yet wanton irresponsive to the sin?
The brilliant reptile marshall'd every art,
To brave the prejudice and seize my heart.
False as Amphissian waves his accents flow'd,
Which hide Destruction 'neath the liquid road:
With cruel skill he bent the servile knee,
And stood, like Ruin, 'twixt my good and me.
His toils, like furies in th' Æolian wind,
Bestorm'd the placid current of my mind;
And made th' ideal billows, raging, rise,
Till their rude vehemence had brav'd the skies:
So quick th' Enormities ingulph'd me in,
I look'd a Demon ere I knew the sin.
Once Hope, in garish raiments, cheer'd my eye,
Renerv'd my wish, and check'd the unborn sigh:
Ah, sweet Seducer! whither art thou flown?
While social Demons seize thy silver throne;
'Tis thine to sprinkle manna o'er the mind,
'Tis thine to temper the ferocious wind,
'Tis thine to renovate the fancy's springs,
Raise the worn maid, and glad despairing kings.
","",2009-09-14 19:43:10 UTC
19154,Introduction,"",,"""Like a snow-ball, the mind, fraught with peace in its prime, / Moves swiftly adown the steep shelvings of Time; / Accumulates filth from Society's sons, / And strengthens and hardens its coat as it runs; / Till habit on habit is negligent laid, / And the object appears motley, vile, and ill-made; / At last, when its indirect wanderings are o'er, / And the sated despoiler can gather no more, / The form lies repos'd at the base of the hill, / A globular concrete of good and of ill; / As its worth has been mix'd with the radix of woe, / And the dirt of the valley has sullied the snow.""",2011-09-13 19:49:23 UTC,"Searching ""ball"" in HDIS (Poetry)",Crazy simile! INTEREST,5658,"But, alas! who can hope to be wise as they ought,
When the evils of life taint the progress of thought?
Like a snow-ball, the mind, fraught with peace in its prime,
Moves swiftly adown the steep shelvings of Time;
Accumulates filth from Society's sons,
And strengthens and hardens its coat as it runs;
Till habit on habit is negligent laid,
And the object appears motley, vile, and ill-made;
At last, when its indirect wanderings are o'er,
And the sated despoiler can gather no more,
The form lies repos'd at the base of the hill,
A globular concrete of good and of ill;
As its worth has been mix'd with the radix of woe,
And the dirt of the valley has sullied the snow.
(Third Part, Mrs. Pope, pp. 202-3, ll. 423-436) ","Third Part, Mrs. Pope",2014-03-14 14:50:16 UTC
19802,"","",,"""The third, / More absurd, / Than the iron-fed bird; / And whose brains lacked juice like an over-squeezed curd, / Had nothing of value to give but her--Word.""",2012-06-27 18:54:42 UTC,Searching in HDIS (Poetry),"",7264," Three sprigs of Hecate in three districts born;
The Horse-guards, York, and Grub-street did adorn;
The first, in matchless mummery was clever,
And sold her mother, Common Sense, for ever.
The second beldam all the rest surpast,
In ease and arrogance--to mould the last;
As Nature's powers could no farther go,
To make a third, she join'd the other two;
Who calls mankind to marvel at her dealing,
And gets her pence by--literary stealing.
Such beldams as these ne'er encounter'd before,
And ne'er will again, until Time is no more;
They met in the World, and shook hands like Scotch cousins,
And were wedded by Fate, to get monsters by dozens.
These witches agreed,
In an hour of--need,
As the only means left them to fatten and feed,
To mount all at once, on Apollo's own steed;
And, by joining their stock, like three empyric doctors,
To gorge on men's vices, like bailiffs and proctors,
The first, a vile sybil, who seeks paupers huts,
To coax little spinsters with ginger-bread nuts:
Gave lies and salt-petre;
Some malice, some metre;
A few pointless strokes,
Old songs and stale jokes;
With witless bon mots from a vile memorandum;
Which the witch did essay,
Once to weave in a play,
But Pit, Box, or Gods could not stand 'em.
The second presented some well-temper'd fuel,
To kindle a flame in the World's busy ball,
As prejudice, pique, or occasion should call;
With ample decoctions of weak water-gruel;
Some cowslips half wither'd, and ill gather'd daisies,
An ounce of crampt wit, and a pound of strange phrases;
Which she stole on the side of the Parnassian mountain,
When she sipt the foul streams from the helicon fountain.
The third,
More absurd,
Than the iron-fed bird;
And whose brains lacked juice like an over-squeezed curd,
Had nothing of value to give but her--Word.
Except a small treatise 'gainst--running in debt;
And some tomes of the chaste Aretine,
With a few comic traits of the fair Antoinette,
When she wanders to see and be seen.","",2012-06-27 18:55:07 UTC
22072,"","",,"""Sometimes indeed it happens, that he may be able to mark the time, when from the sight of a picture, a passage in an author, or a hint in conversation, he has received, as it were, some new and guiding light, something like inspiration, by which his mind has been expanded, and is morally sure that his whole life and conduct has been affected by that accidental circumstance.""",2013-07-25 15:59:59 UTC,Reading,"",7574,"It would not be to the present purpose, even if I had the means and materials, which I have not, to enter into the private life of Mr. Gainsborough. The history of his gradual advancement, and the means by which he acquired such excellence in his art, would come nearer to our purpose and wishes, if it were by any means attainable; but the flow progress of advancement is in general, imperceptible to the man himself who makes it; it is the consequence of an accumulation of various ideas, which his mind has received, he does not, perhaps, know how or when. Sometimes indeed it happens, that he may be able to mark the time, when from the sight of a picture, a passage in an author, or a hint in conversation, he has received, as it were, some new and guiding light, something like inspiration, by which his mind has been expanded, and is morally sure that his whole life and conduct has been affected by that accidental circumstance. Such interesting accounts we may however sometimes obtain from a man, who has acquired an uncommon habit of self-examination, and has attended to the progress of his own improvement.
(pp. 5-6)","",2013-07-25 15:59:59 UTC
22074,"","",,"""I think some apology may reasonably be made for his manner, without violating truth, or running any risk of poisoning the minds of the younger students, by propagating false criticism, for the sake of raising the character of a favorite artist.""",2013-07-25 16:04:53 UTC,Reading,"",7574,"I think some apology may reasonably be made for his manner, without violating truth, or running any risk of poisoning the minds of the younger students, by propagating false criticism, for the sake of raising the character of a favorite artist. It must be allowed that this hatching manner of Gainsborough, did very much contribute to the lightness of effect which is so eminent a beauty in his pictures; as on the contrary, much smoothness, and uniting the colours, is apt to produce heaviness. Every artist must have remarked, how often that lightness of hand, which was in his dead-colour, or first painting, escaped in the finishing, when he had determined the parts with more precision; and another loss he often experiences, which is of greater consequence; whilst he is employed in the detail, the effect of the whole together, is either forgot or neglected. The likeness of a portrait, for instance, consists more in preserving the general effect of the countenance, than in the most minute finishing of the features, or any of the particular parts. Now Gainsborough's portraits were often little more, in regard to finishing, or determining the forms of the features, than what generally attends a dead colour; but as he was always attentive to the general effect, or whole together, I have often imagined that this unfinished manner, contributed even to that striking resemblance for which his portraits are so remarkable. Though this opinion may be considered as fanciful, yet I think a plausible reason may be given, why such a mode of painting should have such an effect. It is presupposed that in this undetermined manner, there is the general effect; enough to remind the spectator of the original; the imagination supplies the rest, and perhaps more satisfactory to himself if not more exactly than the artist, with all his care, could have possibly done. At the same time it must be acknowledged there is one evil attending this mode; that if the portrait were seen, previous to any knowledge of the original, different people would form different ideas, and all would be disappointed at not finding the original correspond to their own conception; under the great latitude which indistinctness gives to the imagination, to assume almost what character or form it pleases.
(pp. 20-3)","",2013-07-25 16:04:53 UTC
23985,"","",,"""The imagination of the spectator throws upon it either the one colour or the other, according either to his habits of thinking, or to the favour or dislike which he may bear to the person whose conduct he is considering.""",2014-06-19 16:26:12 UTC,Reading,"",7934,"The man who desires to do, or who actually does, a praiseworthy action, may likewise desire the praise which is due to it, and sometimes, perhaps, more than is due to it. The two principles are in this case blended together. How far his conduct may have been influenced by the one, and how far by the other, may frequently be unknown even to himself. It must almost always be so to other people. They who are disposed to lessen the merit of his conduct, impute it chiefly or altogether to the mere love of praise, or to what they call mere vanity. They who are disposed to think more favourably of it, impute it chiefly or altogether to the love of praiseworthiness; to the love of what is really honourable and noble in human conduct; to the desire not merely of obtaining, but of deserving, the approbation and applause of his brethren. The imagination of the spectator throws upon it either the one colour or the other, according either to his habits of thinking, or to the favour or dislike which he may bear to the person whose conduct he is considering.
(pp. 126-7 in Liberty Fund ed.)","",2014-06-19 16:26:12 UTC