work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context 7407,"",Reading,2013-06-10 20:38:04 UTC,"Our funeral tears from different causes rise.
As if from separate cisterns in the soul,
Of various kinds, they flow
. From tender hearts,
By soft contagion call'd, some burst at once,
And stream obsequious to the leading eye.
Some ask more time, by curious art distill'd.
Some hearts, in secret hard, unapt to melt,
Struck by the magic of the public eye,
Like Moses' smitten rock, gush out amain.
Some weep to share the fame of the deceased,
So high in merit, and to them so dear.
They dwell on praises which they think they share;
And thus, without a blush, commend themselves.
Some mourn in proof that something they could love;
They weep, not to relieve their grief, but show .
Some weep in perfect justice to the dead,
As conscious all their love is in arrear.
Some mischievously weep, not unapprized
Tears sometimes aid the conquest of an eye.
With what address the soft Ephesians draw
Their sable net-work o'er entangled hearts!
As seen through crystal, how their roses glow,
While liquid pearl runs trickling down their cheek!
Of hers not prouder Egypt's wanton queen,
Carousing gems, herself dissolved in love.
Some weep at Death, abstracted from the dead,
And celebrate, like Charles , their own decease.
By kind construction some are deem'd to weep,
Because a decent veil conceals their joy.
(ll. 522-550, pp. 130-1)",,20500,"","""Our funeral tears from different causes rise. / As if from separate cisterns in the soul, / Of various kinds, they flow.""","",2013-06-10 20:38:04 UTC,Night the Fifth