work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context
5366,"","Searching ""heart"" and ""steel"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2005-06-12 00:00:00 UTC,"These sources then of pain, this double lot
Of evil in the inheritance of man,
Requir'd for his protection no slight force,
No careless watch. and therefore was his breast
Fenc'd round with passions quick to be alarm'd,
Or stubborn to oppose; with fear, more swift
Than beacons catching flame from hill to hill,
Where armies land; with anger, uncontroul'd
As the young lion bounding on his prey;
With sorrow, that locks up the struggling heart,
And shame, that overcasts the drooping eye
As with a cloud of lightening. These the part
Perform of eager monitors, and goad
The soul more sharply than with points of steel,
Her enemies to shun or to resist.
And as those passions, that converse with good,
Are good themselves; as hope and love and joy,
Among the fairest and the sweetest boons
Of life, we rightly count; so these, which guard
Against invading evil, still excite
Some pain, some tumult: these, within the mind
Too oft admitted or too long retain'd,
Shock their frail seat, and by their uncurb'd rage
To savages more fell than Libya breeds
Transform themselves: till human thought becomes
A gloomy ruin, haunt of shapes unbless'd,
Of self-tormenting fiends; horror, despair,
Hatred, and wicked envy: foes to all
The works of nature and the gifts of heaven.",2011-06-13,14465,These verses are not in the 1793 edition of Barbauld.,"""These the part / Perform of eager monitors, and goad / The soul more sharply than with points of steel, / Her enemies to shun or to resist.""","",2011-06-13 17:55:43 UTC,Book II
3330,"","Searching ""soul"" and ""bird"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2012-04-29 15:19:26 UTC,"I am the man who long have known
The strength and rage of inbred sin;
My soul is dead, my heart is stone,
A cage of birds and beasts unclean,
A den of thieves, a dire abode
Of dragons, but no house of God.",,19734,"","""My soul is dead, my heart is stone, / A cage of birds and beasts unclean, / A den of thieves, a dire abode / Of dragons, but no house of God.""",Beasts,2012-04-29 15:19:26 UTC,""
7400,"",Reading,2013-06-05 21:31:02 UTC,"Wisdom, though richer than Peruvian mines,
And sweeter than the sweet ambrosial hive,--
What is she but the means of happiness?
That unobtain'd, than Folly more a fool;
A melancholy fool, without her bells.
Friendship, the means of wisdom, richly gives
The precious end which makes our wisdom wise.
Nature, in zeal for human amity,
Denies or damps an undivided joy.
Joy is an import; joy is an exchange;
Joy flies monopolists; it calls for two;
Rich fruit, heaven-planted, never pluck'd by one!
Needful auxiliars are our friends, to give
To social man true relish of himself.
Full on ourselves descending in a line,
Pleasure's bright beam is feeble in delight:
Delight intense is taken by rebound;
Reverberated pleasures fire the breast.
(ll. 498-515, p. 64 in CUP edition)",,20416,"","""Wisdom, though richer than Peruvian mines, / And sweeter than the sweet ambrosial hive,-- / What is she but the means of happiness?""",Animals and Metal,2013-06-05 21:31:02 UTC,Night the Second
7665,"",Reading,2013-09-02 03:22:17 UTC,"Imagination is the Paphian shop,
Where feeble Happiness, like Vulcan, lame,
Bids foul Ideas, in their dark recess,
And hot as hell, (which kindled the black fires,)
With wanton art, those fatal arrows form
Which murder all thy time, health, wealth, and fame.
Wouldst thou receive them, other Thoughts there are,
On angel-wing, descending from above,
Which these, with art Divine, would counterwork,
And form celestial armour for thy peace.
(p. 175, ll. 994-1003)",,22641,"","""Wouldst thou receive them, other Thoughts there are, / On angel-wing, descending from above, / Which these, with art Divine, would counterwork, / And form celestial armour for thy peace.""<",Metal,2013-09-02 03:22:17 UTC,Night the Eighth