work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context
6456,"",Reading in Perkins. Text taken from HDIS.,2008-05-27 00:00:00 UTC,"In my youth's summer I did sing of One,
The wandering outlaw of his own dark mind;
Again I seize the theme, then but begun,
And bear it with me, as the rushing wind
Bears the cloud onwards: in that Tale I find
The furrows of long thought, and dried-up tears,
Which, ebbing, leave a sterile track behind,
O'er which all heavily the journeying years
Plod the last sands of life,--where not a flower appears.
(p. 864, ll. 19-27)",2008-05-27,17150,"INTEREST. Extremely complicated metaphor. A ""furrow"" is an agricultural image, a term for a wrinkle, a sea route, or any track. Byron seems to blend all of these senses in these lines. ","""[I]n that Tale I find / The furrows of long thought, and dried-up tears, / Which, ebbing, leave a sterile track behind.""","",2009-09-14 19:49:13 UTC,Stanza 3
6456,"",Reading in Perkins. Text from HDIS.,2008-05-27 00:00:00 UTC,"If, like a tower upon a headlong rock,
Thou hadst been made to stand or fall alone,
Such scorn of man had helped to brave the shock;
But men's thoughts were the steps which paved thy throne,
Their admiration thy best weapon shone;
The part of Philip's son was thine, not then
(Unless aside thy Purple had been thrown)
Like stern Diogenes to mock at men--
For sceptred Cynics Earth were far too wide a den
(p. 868, ll. 361-9)",2008-05-27,17157,"","""But men's thoughts were the steps which paved thy throne, / Their admiration thy best weapon shone.""","",2009-09-14 19:49:15 UTC,Stanza 41
6456,"",Reading in Perkins. Text from HDIS.,2008-05-27 00:00:00 UTC,"This makes the madmen who have made men mad
By their contagion; Conquerors and Kings,
Founders of sects and systems, to whom add
Sophists, Bards, Statesmen, all unquiet things
Which stir too strongly the soul's secret springs,
And are themselves the fools to those they fool;
Envied, yet how unenviable! what stings
Are theirs! One breast laid open were a school
Which would unteach Mankind the lust to shine or rule:
",2008-05-27,17159,"","""Conquerors and Kings, / Founders of sects and systems, to whom add / Sophists, Bards, Statesmen, all unquiet things / Which stir too strongly the soul's secret springs, / And are themselves the fools to those they fool.""","",2009-09-14 19:49:15 UTC,Stanza 43
6457,Negated Metaphor,Reading in Perkins. Text from HDIS.,2008-05-27 00:00:00 UTC,"The Beings of the Mind are not of clay:
Essentially immortal, they create
And multiply in us a brighter ray
And more beloved existence: that which Fate
Prohibits to dull life in this our state
Of mortal bondage, by these Spirits supplied,
First exiles, then replaces what we hate;
Watering the heart whose early flowers have died,
And with a fresher growth replenishing the void.
(p. 873, ll. 37-45)",,17167,"","""The Beings of the Mind are not of clay: / Essentially immortal, they create / And multiply in us a brighter ray / And more beloved existence""","",2009-09-14 19:49:16 UTC,Stanza 5
7405,"","Reading M.H. Abrams, The Mirror and the Lamp: Romantic Theory and the Critical Tradition (London: Oxford UP, 1953), 49.",2013-06-06 19:50:03 UTC,"I by no means rank poetry or poets high in the scale of intellect. This may look like affectation, but it is my real opinion. It is the lava of the imagination whose eruptions prevents an earthquake. They say poets never or rarely go mad. Cowper and Collins are instances to the contrary (but Cowper was no poet). It is, however, to be remarked that they rarely do, but are generally so near it that I cannot help thinking rhyme is so far useful in anticipating and preventing the disorder. I prefer the talents of action--of war, of the senate, of even of science,--to all the speculations of those mere dreamers of another existence (I don't mean religiously but fancifully) and spectators of this apathy. Disgust and perhaps incapacity have rendered me now a mere spectator; but I have occasionally mixed in the active and tumultuous departments of existence, and on these alone my recollection rests with any satisfaction, though not the best parts of it.",,20455,"","""I by no means rank poetry or poets high in the scale of intellect. This may look like affectation, but it is my real opinion. It is the lava of the imagination whose eruptions prevents an earthquake.""","",2013-06-06 19:50:03 UTC,""