text,updated_at,metaphor,created_at,context,theme,reviewed_on,dictionary,comments,provenance,id,work_id
"------ & apta
Spicula sent nobis puris ------
Simple as are the Elements unmixt,
Stedfast as is the earth, whose footing's fixt;
Untainted like the silver suite of Swan,
Alone like truth, well ordered like a man,
Like these in each of these was I, untill
Upon a time, Reason fell foule with Will,
Who back't with sence, that it might battaile move,
Implor'd the ayde of all commanding Love,
Love by his mother taught, doth soone comply,
To be an Actor in this treachery.
The battell's wag'd, and reason fleye the field,
While Sence and Will to Love the Conquest yeeld.
I now, loves subject, am inforclt to doe
What ever his designes commands me to do;
See, see (quoth hee) do you behold that maid,
Whose equall doth not breathe; and there he staid,
To draw fresh aire, So quicke was he to give
Mee notice that I must no longer live,
In my owne selfe, but her whom when I spy'd,
Mee thought I had been happy to have dy'd
Since I at once saw severally in one,
What joyn'd together made perfection.
This was Florella that bright shining starre,
Who might have caused a second Trojan warre,
Were there a second Paris, for her face,
The world might strive, but then there sate a grace
So chast that might expell each spurious thought,
Such as foule Hellen to her Paris brought.
There I might read in my Florella's lookes,
(Such are indeed beauties most perfect bookes)
Loves pleasant Lecture where I might espie
How Cupid once sought entrance at her eye
Whom she repell'd, like snow and chast and cold
Could not admit a Sympathy to hold,
With his hot flames, but melting quite put out
That ardent fire which warm'd her round about.
Cupid denied of this did backward start,
And ran for hast to hide him in her heart,
Where he renewed fresh flames, and by delay,
So I corcht his wings he could not fly away
Thus force perforce in her my conquer'd breast
Is the poore Inne of such a God-borne guest,
Whom while I harbor, it is hard to tell
Whether his presence be a Heaven or Hell.
Such pleasurable paine, such painfull pleasure
Sometimes below, and sometimes above measure.
Mars on a time forsook his Venus bed,
Protesting he no longer would be led
To these embraces, which like Circles charmes,
Made him forget th'Heroicke use of Armes,
Venus heard this whiles halfe in anger shee
Did thrust her darling Cupid off her knee.
Downe falls the youngster and in salling so
Broke all his Arrows, quiver and his bow,
His grandame Nature pittying the mischance,
Wipes the wagges eyes, told him she would advance
Him to his former office: for a dart
That should transfixe the most obdurate heart.
She would create an eye, and for a bow
She'd make a brow, whose art inclining so,
Should shoote such shafts, that deity should yeeld
Themselves glad prisoners in the maiden field,
When streight she made Florella, such a maid,
Who being nam'd, need there ought else be said?
'Tis not long since that I heard Lovers whine
At whose deep wounds, which from their Mistris eyne
They bleeding had ceceiv'd, cause they could winne
No mercy from them, whilst I thought some pinne
Had scratch'd their tender hands, till I too late
Grew sensible they were unfortunate
In their lost loves, 'cause when Florella fround,
Shee like a Commet strucke mee to the ground,
Till shee was pleas'd to cleare her glorious eyes,
Which summon'd mee from death to life to rise.
Wherefore you speedy Merchant doe you runne
Beyond the bounds of the all-bounding Sunne,
To seeke for Rubies, Pearle, and Ivory,
Adventuring hazard both of Land and skie,
When my Florella can afford all this
Without your search in the tumultuous Seas.
Rubies and Pearle, her lips and teeth, her skinne,
Like hollow Ivory, lockes those gems within,
For which you fondly up and downe doe rome
When you may better find this wealth at home,
What would the Northerne Climate hold too deare
To purchase my Florella to live there?
That where the niggard sute denies to shine,
They might receive more lustre from her eyne.
But that I know she loves Religion best,
She had long since, seene India the West,
But least those Pagans who adore the rise
Of the bright Sunne, should doate upon her eyes,
She was resolv'd to stay; wo had I bin
Had she gone thither to encrease their sinne.
East India nothing holds that's worth her view,
There's nothing there, that shee can take for new,
Their aire-perfuming spices, pretious gum,
Their fragrant odors, pleasants, Cinamum
All these and sweeter farre, shee breathes whose smell
Doth all things but it selfe, highly excell:
Once to my friend I did these lines rehearse,
Who streightway smil'd and did applaud my verse
But Ah! I feare 'twas my Florella's name
That brib'd his tongue, so to belie my fame.
Once, and but once I chanc'd to have the sight
Of my Florella, who makes darkness light:
When leaden Morpheus did her sence surprize,
In the lock't casket of her closed eys,
Faine would I steale a kisse, but as I strove,
Those scarlet Judges of my sleeping love
Did swell against my pride, and angry red,
Charg'd mee stand back from her forbidden bed:
While they her precious breath did seem to smother.
Each privately did steale a touch from the other,
I envious at their new begotten blisse
Was hold on her soft lips to print a kisse.
At which she wak't: And have you ever seene
How faire Aurora, heavens illustrious queene.
Shakes off her sable Robe, and with a grace
Smiles in the front of a faire morning face.
Just so my love as if night had beene noone,
Discards the element of the uselesse moone:
And from her glorious tapers sent a fire,
To light the darkest thoughts to quicke desire.
While thus from forth her rosall gate she sent,
Breath form'd in words, the marrow of content.
And have you Sir, at such a tempting time
Betrayd my honour, to this welcome crime,
By stealing pleasure from me, 'twas thy Love
I know, that did thee to this trespasse move
For I have prov'd thy faith which since I finde
The trusty Inmate of a loyall minde,
Of force I must except it; and in part
Of recompence, afford thee all my heart,
Thus having ceaz'd my prize; I told her, sweet,
As by no fouler name we ere may greete,
So what is mine I tender, all, my selfe,
The poorest part of thy unvalued wealth.
Thou hast won much in this, thy mercy showne,
That thus at last thou dost receive thy owne
Least they who after me like fare shall prove,
Should say, See what it is to be in Love.
I am in portu.",2009-09-14 19:34:09 UTC,"""Cupid denied of this did backward start, / And ran for hast to hide him in her heart, / Where he renewed fresh flames, and by delay, / So I corcht his wings he could not fly away / Thus force perforce in her my conquer'd breast / Is the poore Inne of such a God-borne guest, / Whom while I harbor, it is hard to tell / Whether his presence be a Heaven or Hell.""",2006-03-15 00:00:00 UTC,I've included the entire poem,"",,Inhabitants,"•Rich passage. I've included five times: Flame, Conquest, Inn, Guest, Heaven or Hell","Searching ""breast"" and ""guest"" in HDIS (Poetry)",9356,3607
"Herring.
Tho' a World of dull Bullion your essence do's hold,
Scarce an Atom of Soul was cast into the Mould,
Room enough, and to spare lavish Nature allows,
But provides not a Tenant to suit with the House:
As for me, tho' she veils me with Flesh, and with Skin,
Yet my Form's little else but pure Spirit within:
And in vain you your Bulk for your Monarchy bring,
[1]For if the Ocean were Goth-land who but I should be King",2009-09-14 19:34:30 UTC,"Tho' a World of dull Bullion your essence do's hold, / Scarce an Atom of Soul was cast into the Mould, / Room enough, and to spare lavish Nature allows, / But provides not a Tenant to suit with the House",2005-08-29 00:00:00 UTC,"","",,Inhabitant,"•Note explains, ""'Twas the custom among the Goths to chuse a little man for their Prince.""
•I've included four times: Atom, Mould, Tenant, House",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),9825,3816
"(H.)
Welcome dear Friend! Thou dost my Griefs dispell,
No Sorrow long can wound, when Thou art well.
Ill-boding Dreams o're my sad Fancy rowl'd,
And the approach of some black Fate foretold:
Strange frightfull Spectres o're my Mind were spread;
I saw the Vertues and the Graces bleed,
As thô the Soul o'th' Universe was dead.
Avert the Omen Heaven!",2010-03-24 00:00:53 UTC,"""Strange frightfull Spectres o're my Mind were spread.""",2006-02-22 00:00:00 UTC,"","",,"","",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),10049,3880
"The Mind no nobler Wisdom can attain,
Than to inspect and study all the Man:
His awful Looks confess the Race Divine;
In him the Beauties of the Godhead shine:
With Majesty he fills great Reason's Throne,
The Subject World their rightful Monarch own:
His ranging Soul in narrow Bounds contains
All Nature's Works, o'er which in Peace he reigns;
His Head resembles Jove's Eternal Seat,
In which Inthron'd, he sways the Heav'nly State,
And with assembled Gods, consults of Fate:
The feather'd Envoys, all in shining Crowds;
Attend his Throne, and watch his awful Nods:
Catch his Commands, and thro' the Liquid Air
To the low World the Sacred Errand bear:
Just so the Head of Man contains within
The Intellect, with Rays and Light Divine:
The Senses stand around; the Spirits roam
To seize and bring the fleeting Objects home:
Thro' every Nerve and every Pore they pass,
And fill with chearful Light the gloomy Space;
The Heart, the Center of the manly Breast,
Just like the Sun, in lovely Purple drest,
Diffuses all the Liquid Crimson round,
Whence Life, and Vigour, Heat and Strength abound:
And as great Phoebus sometimes rages high,
And scorches with his Beams the sultry Sky:
So when the Heart with Rage, or flaming Ire,
Grows warm, or burns with Love's consuming Fire:
The catching Virals spread the Flames afar.
And all the Limbs the hot Contagion share,
As solid Shores contain the liquid Seas,
Just so the Stomach, a soft watry Mass,
Stagnates beneath and fills the lower Space:
Here, Winds, and Rains, and humid Vapours lie,
And these exhal'd with Heat, all upwards fly:
As mantling Clouds conceal the fickly Sun,
Dissolve in Dew and drive the Tempest down:
So when thick Humours from the Stomach rise,
They damp the Soul, and sprightly Faculties:
Then Night and Death their gloomy Shades display,
Till the bright Spark within, the heav'nly Ray,
Dispels the Darkness, and restores the Day.
",2013-06-26 17:16:56 UTC,"""The Senses stand around; the Spirits roam / To seize and bring the fleeting Objects home: / Thro' every Nerve and every Pore they pass.""",2004-07-27 00:00:00 UTC,"","",,Empire,"",HDIS (Poetry),10646,4141
"Those which from fair and comely Objects fly,
By their own Smoothness please th'affected Eye:
Thro' the Sight's Pores round little Globules steal,
And the charm'd Senses a strange Pleasure feel.
With secret Joy the Soul it self is seiz'd,
And with th'agreeable Idolum pleas'd.
Which wand'ring from the Eyes by Ways unknown,
O'er the soft Bowels and warm Heart is thrown,
And ming'ling in the Womb the fair Idea's sown.
By which kind Nature models her Design;
With forming Hand she Works each beauteous Line,
And all delightsom Things in the Composure joyn.
But if th'Idola from foul Figures rise,
Their roughness Shocks the Soul, and Wounds the Eyes.
And, as with Spears, which grow from bladed Corn,
Invade the Mind, and make the Senses mourn.
Whence strange Dislike surprizes every Part,
And fills with Horrour the recoiling Heart;
Which, thus Contract, does th'ill-form'd Image throw
Into the Womb, and there th'unpleasing Figure sow.
By which Direction, Nature shapes her Aim,
Distorts the Limbs, or does the Piece Defame
With Features most Deform'd; the weeping Mother's Shame.
And, as we often by Experience find,
If a vile Body cloth as vile a Mind,
The World, which by the Looks does Actions scan,
Will in the Child condemn the future Man.",2013-06-04 16:12:51 UTC,"""Thro' the Sight's Pores round little Globules steal, / And the charm'd Senses a strange Pleasure feel. / With secret Joy the Soul it self is seiz'd, / And with th'agreeable Idolum pleas'd. / Which wand'ring from the Eyes by Ways unknown, / O'er the soft Bowels and warm Heart is thrown, / And ming'ling in the Womb the fair Idea's sown.""",2005-05-04 00:00:00 UTC,"","",2013-06-04,Inhabitants,•I've included twice: Sowing and Wandering,Searching in HDIS (Poetry),10773,4171
"Objects, which thro' the Senses make their Way,
And just Impressions to the Soul convey,
Give her Occasion first her self to move,
And to exert her Hatred, or her Love.
Ideas, which to some impulsive seem,
Act not upon the Mind, but That on them.
When she to foreign Objects Audience gives,
Their Strokes and Motions in the Brain perceives,
As these Perceptions we Ideas name,
From her own Pow'r and active Nature came,
So when discern'd by Intellectual Light,
Her self her various Passions does excite,
To Ill her Hate, to Good her Appetite:
To shun the first, the latter to procure,
She chuses Means by free Elective Pow'r.
She can their various Habitudes survey,
Debate their Fitness, and their Merit weigh,
And while the Means suggested she compares,
She to the Rivals This or That prefers.
(VII, ll. 446-464, pp. 338-9)
",2013-08-07 14:35:43 UTC,"""When she to foreign Objects Audience gives, / Their Strokes and Motions in the Brain perceives, / As these Perceptions we Ideas name, / From her own Pow'r and active Nature came, / So when discern'd by Intellectual Light, / Her self her various Passions does excite, / To Ill her Hate, to Good her Appetite: /
To shun the first, the latter to procure, / She chuses Means by free Elective Pow'r.""",2005-05-17 00:00:00 UTC,Book VII,"",,Empire and Inhabitants,•INTEREST. RICH passage. I've cut and pasted the whole book for study.,Searching in HDIS (Poetry),10781,4167
"Where dwells this Sovereign Arbitrary Soul,
Which does the human Animal controul,
Inform each Part, and agitate the whole?
O'er Ministerial Senses does preside,
To all their various Provinces divide,
Each Member move, and ev'ry Motion guide.
Which by her secret uncontested Nod
Her Messengers the Spirits sends abroad,
Thro' ev'ry nervous Pass, and ev'ry vital Road.
To fetch from ev'ry distant Part a Train,
Of outward Objects to enrich the Brain.
Where sits this bright Intelligence enthron'd,
With numberless Ideas pour'd around?
Where Wisdom, Prudence, Contemplation stand,
And busie Fantoms watch her high Command:
Where Sciences and Arts in order wait,
And Truths Divine compose her Godlike State.
Can the dissecting Steel the Brain display,
And the august Apartment open lay,
Where this great Queen still chuses to reside
In Intellectual Pomp, and bright Ideal Pride?
Or can the Eye assisted by the Glass
Discern the strait, but hospitable Place,
In which ten thousand Images remain,
Without Confusion, and their Rank maintain?
(VII, ll. 303-327, pp. 329-30)",2013-08-07 15:15:41 UTC,"""Where sits this bright Intelligence enthron'd, / With numberless Ideas pour'd around? Where Wisdom, Prudence, Contemplation stand, / And busie Fantoms watch her high Command:/ Where Sciences and Arts in order wait, / And Truths Divine compose her Godlike State""",2005-06-13 00:00:00 UTC,Book VII,Seat of Soul,,Throne and Population,"",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),10793,4167
"Batter my heart, three-person'd God, for you
As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
That I may rise and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurp'd town to'another due,
Labor to'admit you, but oh, to no end;
Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captiv'd, and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly'I love you, and would be lov'd fain,
But am betroth'd unto your enemy;
Divorce me,'untie or break that knot again,
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Except you'enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.
(ll. 1-14)",2011-12-19 14:36:44 UTC,"""Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend, / But is captiv'd, and proves weak or untrue.""",2011-12-19 14:36:44 UTC,"","",,"","",Reading,19359,7133
"Thoughts are our Plagues; the Beasts, that none do know,
Are Free from trouble and resentment too.
As Nature bids, they every thing receive,
And take it, as her Bounteous Hand doth give.
No pining Thoughts do sowre the Joys, they tast,
No preying Passion doth their Body wast;
While Ours by the Souls Motion's worn so thin;
'Twill scarce keep Life, and Breath, Life's Tenant, in.
At Things above Ambition makes us Soar,
And grasp at what is plac'd beyond our Power:
Our feeble Strength we ne'r consult: And then
No wonder, We are tumbled back again.
A chain of Sorrows hangs upon our State:
We for Impossibilities do wait,
Anxiously seek for what will never come,
And yet are angry, when We meet our Doom.
The fault doth not in outward Causes ly,
But in our Judgment, that is warp'd awry.
Our Power's confin'd, and we should Happy be,
If We the Limits of our Power could see.
If We could fix our wandring Thoughts at home,
Nor let beyond our Sphear our Wishes roam,
All things, We see, are Passive here below,
Nor from themselves their Power-to-act doth flow,
They'r dead, unless some greater Essence give
Influx of being, that may make them Live.
'Tis only Heaven doth purely act, and can,
Crumble in Dust the vast Designs of Man:
His Will must stand, whatever We Design,
Nothing can stop the course of things Divine.
All Aids are useless; what is Infinite,
Doth need no Help, nor doth Increase admit.",2012-07-03 02:41:29 UTC,"""No pining Thoughts do sowre the Joys, they tast, / No preying Passion doth their Body wast; / While Ours by the Souls Motion's worn so thin; / 'Twill scarce keep Life, and Breath, Life's Tenant, in.""",2012-07-03 02:41:29 UTC,"","",,Inhabitants,"",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),19841,7284
"Yet the silly wand'ring mind,
Loth to be too much confin'd,
Roves and takes her daily tours,
Coasting round the narrow shores,
Narrow shores of flesh and sense,
Picking shells and pebbles thence:
Or she sits at fancy's door,
Calling shapes and shadows to her,
Foreign visits still receiving,
And t'herself a stranger living.
Never, never would she buy
Indian dust, or Tyrian dye,
Never trade abroad for more,
If she saw her native store,
If her inward worth were known
She might ever live alone.
(p. 470, ll. 59-74)",2014-04-12 22:29:52 UTC,"""Yet the silly wand'ring mind, / Loth to be too much confin'd, / Roves and takes her daily tours, / Coasting round the narrow shores, / Narrow shores of flesh and sense, / Picking shells and pebbles thence: / Or she sits at fancy's door, / Calling shapes and shadows to her, / Foreign visits still receiving, / And t'herself a stranger living.""",2014-04-12 22:29:52 UTC,"",Stranger Within,,Inhabitants,"",Reading work in progress by Sarah Kareem.,23778,7864