updated_at,id,text,theme,metaphor,work_id,reviewed_on,provenance,created_at,comments,context,dictionary
2013-06-26 17:20:13 UTC,10648,"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.
","","""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.""",4141,,HDIS (Poetry),2004-07-27 00:00:00 UTC,"","",""
2009-09-14 19:35:26 UTC,10964,"Tho' you, my Lyce, in some Northen Flood
Had chill'd the Current of your Blood;
Or lost your sweet engaging Charms
In some Tartarian Husband's icy arms;
Were yet one Spark of Pity left behind
To form the least Impression on your Mind,
Sure you must grieve, sure you must sigh,
Sure drop some Pity from your Eye,
To see your Lover prostrate on the Ground,
With gloomy Night, and black Despair encompass'd all around.
","","There may be ""one Spark of Pity left behind / To form the least Impression on your Mind""",4215,,"Searching ""soul"" and ""stamp"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2005-04-07 00:00:00 UTC,•Mixing metaphors some. Stamp a spark?,The Odes of Horace,""
2009-12-28 05:55:17 UTC,11164,"After the Count had gone some few Paces, he planted himself behind a Thicket, which, while it hid him, gave the Opportunity of observing them; and when he found the Coast clear, rush'd out, and with unhurting Gripe, seiz'd once more on the unguarded Prey. Blest turn of Fortune, (said he in a Rapture) Happy, happy Moment! -- Lost, lost Melliora, (said she) unhappy Maid! --Oh why, my Lord, this quick Return! This is no Place to answer thee, (resum'd he, taking her in his Arms, and bearing her behind that Thicket, where he himself had stood.) 'Twas in vain for her to resist, if she had had the Power over her Inclinations; 'till he, setting her softly down, and beginning to Caress her in the manner he had done when she was in Bed, she assum'd Strength enough to raise herself a little, and catching hold of his transgressing Hands, laid her Face on them, and bath'd them in a Shower of Tears: O! D'elmont(said she) cruel D'elmont! Will you then take Advantage of my Weakness? I confess I feel for you a Passion, far beyond all, that yet ever bore the Name of Love; and that I can no longer withstand the too powerful Magick of your Eyes, nor deny any Thing that charming Tongue can ask; but now's the Time to prove your self a Heroe! subdue your self, as you have conquer'd me! be satisfied with vanquishing my Soul, fix there your Throne, but leave my Honour free! Life of my Life (cry'd he) wound me no more by such untimely Sorrows: I cannot bear thy Tears, by Heaven they sink into my Soul, and quite unman me; but tell me (continued he, tenderly kissing her) couldst thou, with all this Love, this charming-- something more than Softness--cou'dst thou, I say, consent to see me pale and dead, stretch'd at thy Feet, consum'd with inward Burnings, rather than blest, than rais'd by Love and thee, to all a Deity in thy Embraces? For Oh! believe me when I swear, that 'tis impossible to live without thee. No more, no more, (said she, letting her Hand fall gently on his Breast) too easily I guess thy Sufferings by my own; but yet D'elmont 'tis better to die in Innocence, than to live in Guilt. Oh! why (resum'd he, sighing as if his Heart would burst) shou'd what we can't avoid be call'd a Crime? Be Witness for me Heaven! how much I have struggled with this rising passion, even to Madness struggled!--but in vain; the mounting Flame blazes the more, the more I would suppress it--my very Soul's on fire--I cannot bear it-- Oh, Melliora! didst thou but know the thousandth Part of what this Moment I endure, the strong Convulsions of my warring Thoughts, thy Heart, steel'd as it is, and frosted round with Virtue, wou'd burst its icy Shield, and melt in Tears of Blood, to pity me. Unkind and Cruel! (answer'd she) do I not partake them then? --Do I not bear, at least, an equal Share in all your Agonies? Have you no Charms--or have not I a Heart? --A most susceptible and tender Heart? -- Yes, you may feel it throb, it beats against my Breast, like an imprison'd Bird, and fain would burst it's Cage! to fly to you, the Aim of all its Wishes! --Oh, D'elmont! --With these Words she sunk wholly into his Arms, unable to speak more: Nor was he less dissolv'd in Rapture, both their Souls seem'd to take Wing together, and left their Bodies motionless, as unworthy to bear a Part in their more elevated Bliss.
(pp. 102-4)","","""Be Witness for me Heaven! how much I have struggled with this rising passion, even to Madness struggled!--but in vain; the mounting Flame blazes the more, the more I would suppress it--my very Soul's on fire.""",4272,,Reading,2004-07-06 00:00:00 UTC,"",Part 2,""
2014-08-18 20:43:15 UTC,11171,"On Tibur's Shore new Vineyards plant,
For 'tis the only Tree we want;
The Gods ne'er made a nobler Tree!
The Gods love drunken Souls like me.
They have a thousand Plagues in store
For sober Sots, whom Cares devour.
At Sight of Bacchus, Sorrows fly,
Spleen vanishes, and Vapours die.
Who in his Cups e'er made Complaint
Of pinching Penury and Want?
Or durst recite in rueful Strain
The Toils he bore the last Campaign?
When sparkling Bowls our Hours improve:
Then all our Talk is Wine and Love.
But still the Centaurs bloody War
Bids us of Strife and Blows take Care;
We know what Bacchus did in Thrace,
Nor will too far indulge the Glass.
Let Reason still keep in its Light,
And still distinguish Wrong from Right.
God of the Grape, I'll wisely use
Thy heav'nly Gifts, nor will disclose
Thy sacred Rites; do thou asswage
My burning Soul, and curb thy Rage:
Lest to new hateful Crimes I run:
Lest Vanity seize Reason's Throne,
And wretched I to open Day
The Secrets of the Night betray,
And my Heart transparent grow,
Clear as the Glass, that makes it so.
","","""God of the Grape, I'll wisely use / Thy heav'nly Gifts, nor will disclose / Thy sacred Rites; do thou asswage / My burning Soul, and curb thy Rage: / Lest to new hateful Crimes I run: / Lest Vanity seize Reason's Throne, / And wretched I to open Day / The Secrets of the Night betray, / And my Heart transparent grow, / Clear as the Glass, that makes it so.""",4274,,"Searching ""throne"" and ""reason"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2004-07-27 00:00:00 UTC,"","",Empire
2010-07-01 20:37:14 UTC,11504,"Love's an heroick Passion, which can find No room in any base degen'rate Mind: It kindles all the Soul with Honour's Fire, To make the Lover worthy his Desire.
Dryden","","""Love's an heroick Passion, which can find No room in any base degen'rate Mind: It kindles all the Soul with Honour's Fire, To make the Lover worthy his Desire.""",4378,,Searching in HDIS (Prose),2005-09-06 00:00:00 UTC,•Cross-reference and find original Dryden quote. REVISIT.
,Title Page,""
2010-07-01 20:54:20 UTC,12578,"Mean while, What think'st thou? Was the human Soul,
Which by a transient Glance from Pole to Pole
Travels more swift than Light, to Heav'n sublime
Can fly, descend to Hell, six fleeting Time,
The Past and Future to the Present join,
And knows no Bounds which can Its Range confine,
But Infinite alone--
Which reasons justly, Its own Thoughts o'er-rules,
And Fancy's Fire with Judgment's Temper cools;
By Sciences brings hidden Truths to Light:
Some Knowledge gains; but, with fresh Appetite,
Unsatisfy'd, for more still thirsts, and pants,
Knowing, the more It has, how much It wants;
Was by th'Almighty's Wisdom for no End
Design'd, but here a sad short Life to spend;
Only to trifle sev'nty Years away
In this frail Flesh, this Tenement of Clay,
In Doubt, in Fear, in Sorrow, in Despair,
Then cease to be, and vanish into Air?
While various Species of th'inferior, brute
Creation, void of Reason, prone, and mute,
Beasts, Fishes, Birds, ev'n Vegetables, Trees,
The Oak, the Yew, and other Things like These,
Senseless, inanimate, whole Ages last,
After our longest Term of Days is past?
Should One in Pow'rs mechanick most expert
The utmost Efforts of his Skill exert,
Some curious, delicate Machine to frame,
Surpassing all his other Works of Fame;
Yet so contriv'd, that one revolving Sun
Should see This mighty Doing quite undone;
The Wheels, and Springs stand still, and made to stand,
Fix'd, disobedient to the Mover's Hand;
Or, bursting, into Dissolution fly,
And all dispers'd in useless Fragments lie:
Would'st thou not say that, after such Expense
Of Art, the Artist wanted Common Sense?
And shall Eternal Wisdom be impeach'd
Of Folly, which no Mortal Fool e'er reach'd?
","","""And Fancy's Fire with Judgment's Temper cools.""",4752,,Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2004-06-22 00:00:00 UTC,"","",""
2009-09-14 19:49:46 UTC,17317,"Here the feigned Widow ended her sorrowful Tale, which had been several Times interrupted by a Parenthesis of Sighs and Groans; and Beauplaisir, with a complaisant and tender Air, assur'd her of his Readiness to serve her in Things of much greater Consequence than what she desir'd of him; and told her, it would be an Impossibility of denying a Place in his Chariot to a Lady, who he could not behold without yielding one in his Heart. She answered the Compliments he made her but with Tears, which seem'd to stream in such abundance from her Eyes, that she could not keep her Handkerchief from her Face one Moment. Being come into the Chariot, Beauplaisir said a thousand handsome Things to perswade her from giving way to so violent a Grief, which, he told her, would not only be distructive to her Beauty, but likewise her Health. But all his Endeavours for Consolement appear'd ineffectual, and he began to think he should have but a dull Journey, in the Company of one who seem'd so obstinately devoted to the Memory of her dead Husband, that there was no getting a Word from her on any other Theme: -- But bethinking himself of the celebrated Story of the Ephesian Matron, it came into his Head to make Tryal, she who seem'd equally susceptible of Sorrow, might not also be so too of Love; and having began a Discourse on almost every other Topick, and finding her still in capable of answering, resolv'd to put it to the Proof, if this would have no more Effect to rouze her sleeping Spirits: -- With a gay Air, therefore, though accompany'd with the greatest Modesty and Respect, he turned the Conversation, as though without Design, on that Joy-giving Passion, and soon discover'd that was indeed the Subject she was best pleas'd to be entertained with; for on his giving her a Hint to begin upon, never any Tongue run more voluble than hers, on the prodigious Power it had to influence the Souls of those possess'd of it, to Actions even the most distant from their Intentions, Principles, or Humours. -- From that she pass'd to a Description of the Happiness of mutual Affection; -- the unspeakable Extasy of those who meet with equal Ardency; and represented it in Colours so lively, and disclos'd by the Gestures with which her Words were accompany'd, and the Accent of her Voice so true a Feeling of what she said, that Beauplaisir, without being as stupid, as he was really the contrary, could not avoid perceiving there were Seeds of Fire, not yet extinguish'd, in this fair Widow's Soul, which wanted but the kindling Breath of tender Sighs to light into a Blaze. -- He now thought himself as fortunate, as some Moments before he had the Reverse; and doubted not, but, that before they parted, he should find a Way to dry the Tears of this lovely Mourner, to the Satisfaction of them both. He did not, however, offer, as he had done to Fantomina and Celia, to urge his Passion directly to her, but by a thousand little softning Artifices, which he well knew how to use, gave her leave to guess he was enamour'd. When they came to the Inn where they were to lie, he declar'd himself somewhat more freely, and perceiving she did not resent it past Forgiveness, grew more encroaching still: -- He now took the Liberty of kissing away her Tears, and catching the Sighs as they issued from her Lips; telling her if Grief was infectious, he was resolv'd to have his Share; protesting he would gladly exchange Passions with her, and be content to bear her Load of Sorrow, if she would as willingly ease the Burden of his Love. -- She said little in answer to the strenuous Pressures with which at last he ventur'd to enfold her, but not thinking it Decent, for the Character she had assum'd, to yeild so suddenly, and unable to deny both his and her own Inclinations, she counterfeited a fainting, and fell motionless upon his Breast. -- He had no great Notion that she was in a real Fit, and the Room they supp'd in happening to have a Bed in it, he took her in his Arms and laid her on it, believing, that whatever her Distemper was, that was the most proper Place to convey her to. -- He laid himself down by her, and endeavour'd to bring her to herself; and she was too grateful to her kind Physician at her returning Sense, to remove from the Posture he had put her in, without his Leave.","","""From that she pass'd to a Description of the Happiness of mutual Affection; -- the unspeakable Extasy of those who meet with equal Ardency; and represented it in Colours so lively, and disclos'd by the Gestures with which her Words were accompany'd, and the Accent of her Voice so true a Feeling of what she said, that Beauplaisir, without being as stupid, as he was really the contrary, could not avoid perceiving there were Seeds of Fire, not yet extinguish'd, in this fair Widow's Soul, which wanted but the kindling Breath of tender Sighs to light into a Blaze.""",6508,,Reading,2009-03-31 00:00:00 UTC,Seeds of Fire is a mixed metaphor. I've included twice: Seed and Fire.,"",""
2013-06-21 03:24:26 UTC,21075,"That fatal Night the Duke felt hostile Fires in his Breast, Love was entred with all his dreadful Artillery; he took possession in a moment of the Avenues that lead to the Heart! neither did the resistance he found there serve for any thing but to make his Conquest more illustrious. The Duke try'd every corner of his uneasie Bed! whether shut or open, Charlot was still before his Eyes! his Lips and Face retain'd the dear Impression of her Kisses! the Idea of her innocent and charming Touches, wander'd o'er his Mind! he wish'd again to be so bless'd, but then, with a deep and dreadful Sigh, he remembred who she was, the Daughter of his Friend! of a Friend who had at his Death left the charge of her Education to him! his Treaty with the Princess Dowager, wou'd not admit
him to think of marrying of her, Ambition came in to rescue him (in that particular) from the Arms of Love. To possess her without, was a villanous detestable Thought! but not to possess her at all, was loss of Life! was Death inevitable! Not able to gain one wink of Sleep, he arose with the first Dawn, and posted back to Angela. He hop'd the hurry of Business, and the Pleasures of the Court, wou'd stifle so guilty a Passion; he was too well perswaded of his Distemper, the Symptoms were right, the Malignity was upon him! he was regularly possess'd! Love, in all its forms, had took in that formidable Heart of his! he began to be jealous of his Son, whom he had always design'd for Charlot's Husband; he cou'd not bear the thoughts that he shou'd be belov'd by her, tho' all beautiful, as the lovely Youth was. She had never had any tender Inclinations for him, nothing that exceeded the warmth of a Sister's love! whether it were that he were designed for, or that the Precepts of Education had warn'd her from too precipitate a liking: She was bred up with him, accustom'd to his Charms, they made no impression upon her Heart! neither was the Youth more sensible. The Duke cou'd distress neither of 'em by his love of that side, but this he was not so happy to know. He wrote up for the young Lord to come to Court, and gave immediate orders for forming his Equipage, that he might be sent to Travel: Mean time Charlot was never from his Thoughts. Who knows not the violence of beginning Love! especially a Love that we hold opposite to our Interest and Duty? 'Tis an unreasonable excess of Desire, which enters swiftly, but departs slowly.
(pp. 58-9)","","""That fatal Night the Duke felt hostile Fires in his Breast, Love was entred with all his dreadful Artillery; he took possession in a moment of the Avenues that lead to the Heart! neither did the resistance he found there serve for any thing but to make his Conquest more illustrious.""",4111,,"Searching ""mind"" in C-H Lion",2013-06-21 03:24:26 UTC,"","",Empire
2013-06-29 06:06:59 UTC,21306,"ARMINIUS.
Oh Jealousy! thou Torment of the Mind,
How, in a Moment, art thou enter'd here?
My Breast, my inward Soul is glowing hot,
It burns, it rages with devouring Fires.
(III.i, p. 20)","","""My Breast, my inward Soul is glowing hot, / It burns, it rages with devouring Fires.""",7495,,C-H Lion,2013-06-29 06:06:59 UTC,"","Act III, scene i",""
2013-06-30 16:47:54 UTC,21331,"Unworthy of the Happiness design'd you! Is it thus that you return the Condescension of a Lady? How fabulous is Report, which speaks those of your Country, warm and full of amorous Desires?--Thou sure, art colder than the bleak northern Islanders--Dull, stupid Wretch! insensible of every Passion which give Lustre to the Soul, and distinguish Man from Brute! --Without Gratitude!--Without Love!--Without Desire--Dead, even to Curiosity!--How I cou'd despise thee for this Narrowness of Mind, were there not something in thy Eyes and Mien which assure me, that this negligent Behaviour is but affected; and that there are within thy Breast, some Seeds of hidden Fire, which want but the Influence of Charms, more potent perhaps than you have yet beheld, to kindle into Blaze. Make haste then to be enliven'd, for I flatter myself 'tis in my Power to work this Wonder, and long to inspire so lovely a Form with Sentiments only worthy of it. --The Bearer of this, is a Person who I dare confide in--Delay not to come with him; for when once you are taught what 'tis to love, you'll not be ignorant that doubtful Expectation is the worst of Racks, and from your own Experience, pity what I feel, thus chill'd with Doubt, yet burning with Desire.
(p. 153)","","""How I cou'd despise thee for this Narrowness of Mind, were there not something in thy Eyes and Mien which assure me, that this negligent Behaviour is but affected; and that there are within thy Breast, some Seeds of hidden Fire, which want but the Influence of Charms, more potent perhaps than you have yet beheld, to kindle into Blaze.""",4272,,C-H Lion,2013-06-30 16:47:54 UTC,"","",""