work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context
7399,"",Reading,2013-06-05 19:35:05 UTC,"How poor, how rich, how abject, how august,
How complicate, how wonderful is man!
How passing wonder He who made him such!
Who centred in our make such strange extremes!
From different natures marvellously mix'd,
Connexion exquisite of distant worlds!
Distinguish'd link in being's endless chain!
Midway from nothing to the Deity!
A beam ethereal, sullied and absorb'd!
Though sullied and dishonour'd, still divine!
Dim miniature of greatness absolute!
An heir of glory! a frail child of dust!
Helpless immortal! insect infinite !
A worm! a god!--I tremble at myself,
And in myself am lost! At home a stranger,
Thought wanders up and down, surprised, aghast,
And wondering at her own. How reason reels!
O what a miracle to man is man,
Triumphantly distress'd! what joy! what dread!
Alternately transported and alarm'd!
What can preserve my life? or what destroy?
An angel's arm can't snatch me from the grave;
Legions of angels can't confine me there.
(ll. 68-90, pp. 38-9 in CUP edition)",,20386,"","""At home a stranger, / Thought wanders up and down, surprised, aghast, / And wondering at her own.""",Inhabitants,2013-06-05 19:35:05 UTC,Night the First
7399,"",Reading,2013-06-05 19:41:01 UTC,"Yet man (fool man!) here buries all his thoughts;
Inters celestial hopes without one sigh;
Prisoner of earth, and pent beneath the moon,
Here pinions all his wishes; wing'd by Heaven
To fly at infinite; and reach it there
Where seraphs gather immortality,
On life's fair tree, fast by the throne of God.
What golden joys ambrosial clustering glow
In His full beam, and ripen for the just,
Where momentary ages are no more!
Where Time, and Pain, and Chance, and Death expire!
And is it in the flight of threescore years
To push eternity from human thought,
And smother souls immortal in the dust?
A soul immortal, spending all her fires,
Wasting her strength in strenuous idleness,
Thrown into tumult, raptured, or alarm'd,
At aught this scene can threaten, or indulge,
Resembles ocean into tempest wrought,
To waft a feather, or to drown a fly.
(ll. 135-154, pp. 40-1 in CUP edition)",,20389,"","""A soul immortal, spending all her fires, / Wasting her strength in strenuous idleness, / Thrown into tumult, raptured, or alarm'd, / At aught this scene can threaten, or indulge, / Resembles ocean into tempest wrought, / To waft a feather, or to drown a fly.""","",2013-06-05 19:41:01 UTC,Night the First
7401,"",Reading,2013-06-06 14:11:08 UTC,"Lorenzo! no; the thought of death indulge;
Give it its wholesome empire! let it reign,
That kind chastiser of thy soul in joy!
Its reign will spread thy glorious conquests far,
And still the tumults of thy ruffled breast:
Auspicious era! golden days, begin!
The thought of death shall, like a god, inspire.
And why not think on death? Is life the theme
Of every thought, and wish of every hour,
And song of every joy? Surprising truth!
The beaten spaniel's fondness not so strange.
To wave the numerous ills that seize on life
As their own property, their lawful prey;
Ere man has measured half his weary stage,
His luxuries have left him no reserve,
No maiden relishes, unbroach'd delights;
On cold-served repetitions he subsists,
And in the tasteless present chews the past;
Disgusted chews, and scarce can swallow down.
Like lavish ancestors, his earlier years
Have disinherited his future hours,
Which starve on orts, and glean their former field.
(ll. 303-324, p. 81)",,20425,"","""Its reign will spread thy glorious conquests far, / And still the tumults of thy ruffled breast: / Auspicious era! golden days, begin!""
","",2013-06-06 14:11:08 UTC,Night the Third
7402,"",Reading,2013-06-06 15:21:57 UTC,"And is devotion virtue? 'Tis compell'd:
What heart of stone but glows at thoughts like these?
Such contemplations mount us, and should mount
The mind still higher; nor ever glance on man
Unraptured, uninflamed.--Where roll my thoughts
To rest from wonders? Other wonders rise;
And strike where'er they roll: my soul is caught;
Heaven's sovereign blessings, clustering from the cross,
Rush on her in a throng, and close her round,
The prisoner of amaze! In His bless'd life
I see the path, and in His death the price,
And in His great ascent the proof supreme,
Of immortality.--And did He rise?
Hear, O ye nations! Hear it, O ye dead!
He rose! He rose! He burst the bars of death.
Lift up your heads, ye everlasting gates,
And give the King of Glory to come in!
Who is the King of glory? He who left
His throne of glory for the pang of death.
Lift up your heads, ye everlasting gates,
And give the King of glory to come in!
Who is the King of Glory? He who slew
The ravenous foe that gorged all human race!
The King of Glory, He whose glory fill'd
Heaven with amazement at His love to man;
And with Divine complacency beheld
Powers most illumined wilder'd in the theme!
(ll. 259-285, pp. 97-8 in CUP edition)",,20437,"","""Where roll my thoughts / To rest from wonders? Other wonders rise; / And strike where'er they roll: my soul is caught; / Heaven's sovereign blessings, clustering from the cross, / Rush on her in a throng, and close her round, / The prisoner of amaze!""",Inhabitants,2013-06-06 15:21:57 UTC,Night the Fourth
7402,"",Reading,2013-06-06 15:27:47 UTC,"Nature is dumb on this important point,
Or Hope precarious in low whisper breathes:
Faith speaks aloud, distinct; e'en adders hear,
But turn, and dart into the dark again.
Faith builds a bridge across the gulf of Death,
To break the shock blind Nature cannot shun,
And lands Thought smoothly on the farther shore.
Death's terror is the mountain Faith removes,
That mountain-barrier between man and peace.
'Tis Faith disarms Destruction, and absolves
From every clamorous charge the guiltless tomb.
(ll. 717-727, p. 109 in CUP edition)",,20443,"","""Faith builds a bridge across the gulf of Death, / To break the shock blind Nature cannot shun, / And lands Thought smoothly on the farther shore.""","",2013-06-06 15:27:47 UTC,Night the Fourth
7407,"",Reading,2013-06-10 19:23:23 UTC,"But let not these inexpiable strains
Condemn the Muse that knows her dignity;
Nor meanly stops at Time, but holds the world--
As 'tis, in Nature's ample field, a point--
A point in her esteem; from whence to start,
And run the round of universal space,
To visit being universal there,
And Being's Source, that utmost flight of mind!
Yet, spite of this so vast circumference,
Well knows, but what is moral, nought is great.
Sing sirens only? Do not angels sing?
There is in Poesy a decent pride,
Which well becomes her when she speaks to Prose,
Her younger sister; haply, not more wise.
(ll. 53-66, p. 118 in CUP edition)",,20474,"","""But let not these inexpiable strains / Condemn the Muse that knows her dignity; / Nor meanly stops at Time, but holds the world--/ As 'tis, in Nature's ample field, a point--/ A point in her esteem; from whence to start, / And run the round of universal space, / To visit being universal there, / And Being's Source, that utmost flight of mind!""","",2013-06-10 19:23:23 UTC,Night the Fifth
7407,"","Reading; found again in Marjorie Nicholson's Newton Demands the Muse (Princeton: Princeton UP, 1946), 149-150.",2013-06-10 19:25:02 UTC,"Let Indians, and the gay, like Indians, fond
Of feather'd fopperies, the sun adore:
Darkness has more divinity for me:
It strikes thought inward; it drives back the soul
To settle on herself, our point supreme!
There lies our theatre; there sits our judge.
Darkness the curtain drops o'er life's dull scene;
'Tis the kind hand of Providence stretch'd out
'Twixt man and vanity; 'tis Reason's reign,
And Virtue's too; these tutelary shades
Are man's asylum from the tainted throng.
Night is the good man's friend, and guardian too;
It no less rescues Virtue than inspires.
(ll. 126-138, p. 120 in CUP edition)",,20476,"","""Darkness has more divinity for me: / It strikes thought inward; it drives back the soul / To settle on herself, our point supreme! / There lies our theatre; there sits our judge.""",Court,2014-07-25 18:51:09 UTC,Night the Fourth
7407,"",Reading,2013-06-10 19:27:40 UTC,"Virtue for ever frail, as fair, below,
Her tender nature suffers in the crowd,
Nor touches on the world without a stain.
The world's infectious; few bring back at eve,
Immaculate, the manners of the morn.
Something we thought, is blotted; we resolved,
Is shaken; we renounced, returns again.
Each salutation may slide-in a sin
Unthought before, or fix a former flaw.
Nor is it strange; light, motion, concourse, noise,
All scatter us abroad; Thought, outward-bound,
Neglectful of our home-affairs, flies off
In fume and dissipation, quits her charge,
And leaves the breast unguarded to the foe.
(ll. 139-52, pp. 120-1 in CUP edition)",,20478,"","""Nor is it strange; light, motion, concourse, noise, / All scatter us abroad; Thought, outward-bound, / Neglectful of our home-affairs, flies off / In fume and dissipation, quits her charge, / And leaves the breast unguarded to the foe.""",Empire,2013-06-10 19:27:40 UTC,Night the Fifth
7407,"",Reading,2013-06-10 19:42:20 UTC,"What awful joy! what mental liberty!
I am not pent in darkness: rather say,
(If not too bold,) in darkness I'm embower'd.
Delightful gloom! the clustering thoughts around
Spontaneous rise, and blossom in the shade;
But droop by day, and sicken in the sun.
Thought borrows light elsewhere; from that first fire,
Fountain of animation, whence descends
Urania, my celestial guest! who deigns
Nightly to visit me, so mean; and now,
Conscious how needful discipline to man,
From pleasing dalliance with the charms of Night,
My wandering thought recalls, to what excites
Far other beat of heart,--Narcissa's tomb!
(ll. 202-215, p. 122 in CUP edition)",,20484,"","""Conscious how needful discipline to man, / From pleasing dalliance with the charms of Night, / My wandering thought recalls, to what excites / Far other beat of heart,-- Narcissa 's tomb!""","",2013-06-10 19:42:20 UTC,Night the Fifth
7407,"",Reading,2013-06-10 19:46:10 UTC,"Or is it feeble Nature calls me back,
And breaks my spirit into grief again?
Is it a Stygian vapour in my blood,
A cold, slow puddle, creeping through my veins?
Or is it thus with all men?--Thus with all.
What are we? how unequal! now we soar,
And now we sink. To be the same, transcends
Our present prowess. Dearly pays the soul
For lodging ill; too dearly rents her clay.
Reason, a baffled counsellor, but adds
The blush of weakness to the bane of woe.
The noblest spirit, fighting her hard fate
In this damp, dusky region, charged with storms,
But feebly flutters, yet untaught to fly;
Or, flying, short her flight, and sure her fall.
Our utmost strength, when down, to rise again;
And not to yield, though beaten, all our praise.
(ll. 216-232, pp. 122-3 in CUP edition)",,20487,"","""The noblest spirit, fighting her hard fate / In this damp, dusky region, charged with storms, / But feebly flutters, yet untaught to fly; / Or, flying, short her flight, and sure her fall.""",Animals,2013-06-10 19:46:42 UTC,Night the Fifth