work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context
5085,Blank Slate,"Searching ""tabula rasa"" in ECCO",2006-10-12 00:00:00 UTC,"Now this is the first and hardest point of wisdom, when it is once learned and imprinted on the heart, O what docility is in the mind to more, what readiness to receive what follows? It makes a man a weaned child, a little simple child, tractable and and [sic] flexible as Christ would have all his disciples. A man this emptied and vacuated of self-conceit, these lines of natural pride, being blotted out, the soul is as a Tabula rasa, an unwritten table, to receive any impression of the law of God, that he pleases to put on it; and then his words are all plain to him that understandeth, and right to them that find knowledge, Prov. viii. 9. then i say it is not difficult to understand, and to prove what is the good and acceptable will of God, Rom. xii. 2. Eph. [end page 41] v. 10. ----17. It is not up unto heaven, that thee shouldest say, who shall ascend to bring it down? [...]
(pp. 41-2)",2011-06-05,13680,"","""A man this emptied and vacuated of self-conceit, these lines of natural pride, being blotted out, the soul is as a Tabula rasa, an unwritten table, to receive any impression of the law of God, that he pleases to put on it; and then his words are all plain to him that understandeth, and right to them that find knowledge, Prov. viii. 9. then i say it is not difficult to understand, and to prove what is the good and acceptable will of God, Rom. xii. 2. Eph. v. 10. ----17.""",Writing,2011-06-06 11:36:48 UTC,""
6321,"","Searching ""fancy"" and ""coin"" in HDIS (Poetry); found again ""mint""",2005-04-14 00:00:00 UTC,"For when Aurora weeps the balmy dew,
(And dreams, as rev'rend dreamers tell, are true)
Sir George my shoulder slaps, just in the time
When some rebellious word consents to rhyme:
Sudden my verses take the rude alarm,
New-coin'd, and from the mint of fancy warm:
I start, I stare, I question with my eyes;
At once the whole poetic vision flies.
Up, up, exclaims the Knight; the season fair;
See how serene the sky, how calm the air;
Hark! from the hills the cheerful horns rebound,
And echo propagates the jovial sound;
The certain hound in thought his prey pursues,
The scent lies warm, and loads the tainted dews,
I quit my couch, and cheerfully obey,
Content to let the younker have his way;
I mount my courser, fleeter than the wind,
And leave the rage of poetry behind.
But when, the day in healthful labour lost,
We eat our supper earn'd at common cost;
When each frank tongue speaks out without control,
And the free heart expatiates o'er the bowl;
Though all love prose, my poetry finds grace,
And, pleased, I chant the glories of the chace.
(p. 160)",2011-07-14,16719,"•I've included twice: Mint and Coin
","""Sudden my verses take the rude alarm, / New-coin'd, and from the mint of fancy warm""",Coinage,2011-07-14 21:02:34 UTC,""
6321,"","Searching ""chain"" and ""mind"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2011-07-14 20:56:40 UTC,"There is a certain pleasing force that binds,
Faster than chains do slaves, two willing minds.
Tempers oppos'd each may itself control,
And melt two varying natures in one soul.
This made two brothers different humours hit,
Tho' one had probity, and one had wit.
Of sober manners this, and plain good sense,
Avoided cards, wine, company, expense:
Safe from the tempting fatal sex withdrew,
Nor made advances farther than a bow.
A diff'rent train of life his twin pursues;
Lov'd pictures, books, (nay authors write) the stews,
A mistress, op'ra, play, each darling theme;
To scribble, above all, his joy supreme.
Must these two brothers always meet to scold,
Or quarrel, like to Jove's fam'd twins of old?
Each yielding, mutual, could each other please,
And drew life's yoke with tolerable ease:
This, thinking mirth not always in the wrong,
Would sometimes condescend to hear a song;
And that, fatigu'd with his exalted fits,
His beauties, gewgaws, whirlegigs and wits,
Would leave them all, far happier to regale
With prose and friendship o'er a pot of ale.
Then to thy friend's opinion sometimes yield,
And seem to lose, although thou gain'st the field;
Nor, proud that thy superior sense be shown,
Rail at his studies, and extol your own.
(pp. 159-60)",,18874,"","""There is a certain pleasing force that binds, / Faster than chains do slaves, two willing minds.""",Fetters,2011-07-14 21:01:13 UTC,""
7501,"",C-H Lion (Poetry); confirmed in ECCO.,2013-07-02 15:54:15 UTC,"Still shall unthinking man substantial deem
The forms that fleet through life's deceitful dream?
On clouds, where Fancy's beam amusive plays,
Shall heedless Hope the towering fabric raise?
Till at Death's touch the fairy visions fly,
And real scenes rush dismal on the eye;
And from Elysium's balmy slumber torn
The startled soul awakes, to think, and mourn.
(p. 49, ll. 1-8; cf. p. 40 in 1760 ed.)",,21415,"","""On clouds, where Fancy's beam amusive plays, / Shall heedless Hope the towering fabric raise?""","",2014-03-10 21:48:43 UTC,""
7501,"",C-H Lion (Poetry); confirmed in ECCO.,2013-07-02 15:55:06 UTC,"Mild, as the strains, that, at the close of day,
Warbling remote, along the vales decay!---
Yet, why with these compared? What tints so fine,
What sweetness, mildness, can be match'd with thine?
Why roam abroad? Since still, to Fancy's eyes,
I see, I see thy lovely form arise.
Still let me gaze, and every care beguile,
Gaze on that cheek, where all the Graces smile;
That soul-expressing eye, benignly bright,
Where meekness beams ineffable delight;
That brow, where Wisdom sits enthroned serene,
Each feature forms, and dignifies the mien:
Still let me listen, while her words impart
The sweet effusions of the blameless heart,
Till all my soul, each tumult charm'd away,
Yields, gently led, to Virtue's easy sway.
(p. 50, ll. 27-42; cf. p. 42 in 1760 ed.)",,21416,"","""Why roam abroad? Since still, to Fancy's eyes, / I see, I see thy lovely form arise.""","",2014-03-10 21:56:35 UTC,""
7501,"",C-H Lion,2013-07-02 15:57:25 UTC,"All cold the hand, that soothed Woe's weary head!
And quench'd the eye, the pitying tear that shed!
And mute the voice, whose pleasing accents stole,
Infusing balm, into the rankled soul!
O Death, why arm with cruelty thy power,
And spare the idle weed, yet lop the flower!
Why fly thy shafts in lawless error driven!
Is Virtue then no more the care of Heaven!---
But peace, bold thought! be still my bursting heart!
We, not Eliza, felt the fatal dart.
Scaped the dark dungeon does the slave complain,
Nor bless the hand that broke the galling chain?
Say, pines not Virtue for the lingering morn,
On this dark wild condemn'd to roam forlorn?
Where Reason's meteor-rays, with sickly glow,
O'er the dun gloom a dreadful glimmering throw?
Disclosing dubious to th' affrighted eye
O'erwhelming mountains tottering from on high,
Black billowy seas in storm perpetual toss'd,
And weary ways in wildering labyrinths lost.
O happy stroke, that bursts the bonds of clay,
Darts through the rending gloom the blaze of day,
And wings the soul with boundless flight to soar,
Where dangers threat, and fears alarm no more.
(p. 51, ll. 63-85)",,21417,"","""Say, pines not Virtue for the lingering morn, / On this dark wild condemn'd to roam forlorn? / Where Reason's meteor-rays, with sickly glow, / O'er the dun gloom a dreadful glimmering throw? / Disclosing dubious to th' affrighted eye / O'erwhelming mountains tottering from on high, / Black billowy seas in storm perpetual toss'd, / And weary ways in wildering labyrinths lost.""","",2013-07-02 16:00:04 UTC,""
7501,"",C-H Lion (Poetry); confirmed in ECCO.,2013-07-02 15:59:15 UTC,"All cold the hand, that soothed Woe's weary head!
And quench'd the eye, the pitying tear that shed!
And mute the voice, whose pleasing accents stole,
Infusing balm, into the rankled soul!
O Death, why arm with cruelty thy power,
And spare the idle weed, yet lop the flower!
Why fly thy shafts in lawless error driven!
Is Virtue then no more the care of Heaven!---
But peace, bold thought! be still my bursting heart!
We, not Eliza, felt the fatal dart.
Scaped the dark dungeon does the slave complain,
Nor bless the hand that broke the galling chain?
Say, pines not Virtue for the lingering morn,
On this dark wild condemn'd to roam forlorn?
Where Reason's meteor-rays, with sickly glow,
O'er the dun gloom a dreadful glimmering throw?
Disclosing dubious to th' affrighted eye
O'erwhelming mountains tottering from on high,
Black billowy seas in storm perpetual toss'd,
And weary ways in wildering labyrinths lost.
O happy stroke, that bursts the bonds of clay,
Darts through the rending gloom the blaze of day,
And wings the soul with boundless flight to soar,
Where dangers threat, and fears alarm no more.
(p. 51, ll. 63-85)",,21418,"","""O happy stroke, that bursts the bonds of clay, / Darts through the rending gloom the blaze of day, / And wings the soul with boundless flight to soar, / Where dangers threat, and fears alarm no more.""","",2014-03-10 22:02:26 UTC,""
7502,"",C-H Lion (Poetry); confirmed in ECCO.,2013-07-02 16:03:30 UTC,"I. 2.
Smit by thy rapture-beaming eye
Deep flashing through the midnight of their mind,
The sable bands combined,
Where Fear's black banner bloats the troubled sky,
Appall'd retire. Suspicion hides her head,
Nor dares th' obliquely gleaming eyeball raise;
Despair, with gorgon-figured veil o'erspread,
Speeds to dark Phlegethon's detested maze.
(p. 53, ll. 13-20; cf. p. 16 in 1760 ed.)",,21419,"","""Smit by thy rapture-beaming eye / Deep flashing through the midnight of their mind, / The sable bands combined, / Where Fear's black banner bloats the troubled sky, / Appall'd retire.""","",2014-03-11 02:29:46 UTC,""
7502,"",C-H Lion,2013-07-02 16:05:20 UTC,"II. 1.
When first on Childhood's eager gaze
Life's varied landscape, stretch'd immense around,
Starts out of night profound,
Thy voice incites to tempt th' untrodden maze.
Fond he surveys thy mild maternal face,
His bashful eye still kindling as he views,
And, while thy lenient arm supports his pace,
With beating heart the upland path pursues:
The path that leads, where, hung sublime,
And seen afar, youth's gallant trophies, bright
In Fancy's rainbow ray, invite
His wingy nerves to climb.
(pp. 54-5, ll. 42-53)",,21420,"","""Fond he surveys thy mild maternal face, / His bashful eye still kindling as he views, / And, while thy lenient arm supports his pace, / With beating heart the upland path pursues: / The path that leads, where, hung sublime, / And seen afar, youth's gallant trophies, bright / In Fancy's rainbow ray, invite / His wingy nerves to climb.""","",2013-07-02 16:05:20 UTC,""
7854,"","Searching ""heart"" and ""steel"" in ECCO-TCP",2014-03-13 03:13:13 UTC,"AEMILIUS.
Of Rome! aye, and of thee, of thee, my son,
And of thy brother. O unequall'd pair,
Your deeds, your destiny have rais'd your sire
Above the pitch of man. My heart is steel,
I weep not, nor complain. Relentless fiend,
Inhuman MAXIMIN! for thee I live;
To bury in thy hated breast my sword,
Then die upon the blow.
(p. 54)",,23698,"","""My heart is steel, / I weep not, nor complain.""",Metal,2014-03-13 03:13:13 UTC,""