work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context
4405,"",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2005-06-10 00:00:00 UTC,"A Yeoman bold (suppose of Kent)
Liv'd on his own, and paid no Rent;
Manure'd his old paternal Land,
Had always Money at command,
To purchase Bargains, or to lend,
T'improve his Stock, or help a Friend:
At Cressy, and Poictiers, of old
His Ancestors were Bow-Men bold;
Whose good Yew-Bows, and Sinews strong,
Drew Arrows of a Cloth-Yard long:
For England's Glory, strew'd the Plain,
With Barons, Counts, and Princes slain.
Belov'd by all the Neighbourhood,
For his Delight was doing good:
At ev'ry Mart his Word a Law,
Kept all the shuffling Knaves in awe.
How just is Heaven, and how true,
To give to such Desert its Due!
'Tis in authentick Legends said,
Two Twins at once had bless'd his Bed;
Frank was the eldest, but the other
Was honest Numps, his younger Brother;
That, with a Face effeminate,
And Shape too fine, and delicate,
Took after his fond Mother Kate,
A Franklin's Daughter. Numps was rough,
No Heart of Oak was half so tough,
And true as Steel; to cuff, or kick,
Or play a Bout at double Stick,
Who but Friend Numps? while Frank's Delight
Was more (they say) to dance, than fight;
At Whitson-ales King of the May,
Among the Maids brisk, frolick, gay,
He tript it on each Holy-Day.
Their Genius diff'rent, Frank wou'd roam
To Town; but Numps, he staid at home.
The Youth was forward, apt to learn,
Cou'd soon an honest Living earn;
Good Company wou'd always keep,
Was known to Falstaff in East-Cheap;
Threw many a merry Main, cou'd bully,
And put the Doctor on his Cully;
Ply'd hard his Work, had learnt the way,
To watch all Night, and sleep all Day.
Flush'd with Success, new rigg'd, and clean,
Polite his Air, genteel his Mien:
Accomplish'd thus in ev'ry Part,
He won a buxom Widow's Heart.
Her Fortune narrow, and too wide,
Alas! lay her Concerns, her Pride:
Great as a Dutchess, she wou'd scorn
Mean Fare, a Gentlewoman born;
Poor, and expensive! on my life
'Twas but the Devil of a Wife.
Yet Frank with what he won by Night,
A while liv'd tolerably tight;
And Spouse, who sometimes sate 'till Morn
At Cribbidge, made a good Return.
While thus they liv'd from hand to mouth,
She laid a Bantling to the Youth;
But whether 'twas his own or no,
My Authors don't pretend to know.
His Charge enhanc'd, 'tis also true
A Lying-in 's expensive too,
In Cradles, Whittles, Spice-Bowls, Sack,
Whate'er the wanton Gossips lack;
While Scandal thick as Hail-shot flies,
Till peaceful Bumpers seal their Eyes.
Frank deem'd it prudent to retire,
And visit the good Man his Sire;
In the Stage-Coach he seats himself,
Loaded with Madam, and her Elf;
In her right Hand the Coral place'd,
Her Lap a China Orange grace'd:
Pap for the Babe was not forgot,
And Lullaby's melodious Note,
That warbled in his Ears all day,
Short'ned the rugged, tedious Way.",,11604,"","""Numps was rough, / No Heart of Oak was half so tough, / And true as Steel""","",2009-09-14 19:36:04 UTC,I've included the entire poem
4407,"","Searching ""breast"" and ""cave"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2006-01-18 00:00:00 UTC,"Ye Pow'rs, who rule the boundless Deep,
Whose dread Commands the Winds obey,
To roll the Waters on a heap,
Or smooth the liquid way:
Propitious hear Britannia's Pray'r,
Britannia's Hope, is now your Care,
Whom oft to yonder distant Shore,
Your hospitable Billows bore,
When Europe in distress implor'd
Relief from his victorious Sword;
Who, when the mighty Work was done,
Tyrants repell'd, and Battels won,
On your glad Waves, proud of the glorious Load,
Thro' these your watry Realms, in yearly Triumph rode.
To Winds, and Seas, distress'd he flies,
From Storms at Land, and Faction's Spight,
Tho' the more fickle Croud denies,
The Winds, the Seas, shall do his Virtue right.
Be husht ye Winds, be still ye Seas,
Ye Billows sleep at ease,
And in your rocky Caverns rest,
Let all be Calm as the Great Hero's Breast.
Here no unruly Passions reign,
Nor servile Fear, nor proud Disdain,
Each wilder Lust is banish'd hence,
Where gentle Love presides, and mild Benevolence.
Here no gloomy Cares arise,
Conscious Honour still supplies,
Friendly Hope, and Peace of Mind,
Such as dying Martyrs find.
Serene within, no Guilt he knows,
While all his Wrongs sit heavy on his Foes.",,11607,"","""Be husht ye Winds, be still ye Seas, / Ye Billows sleep at ease, / And in your rocky Caverns rest, / Let all be Calm as the Great Hero's Breast.""","",2009-09-14 19:36:04 UTC,Stanza 1
4563,"",Reading,2013-10-25 20:57:48 UTC,"Whate'er of Earth is form'd, to Earth returns
Dissolv'd: the various Objects we behold,
Plants, Animals, this whole material Mass,
Are ever changing, ever new. The Soul
Of Man alone, that Particle divine,
Escapes the Wreck of Worlds, when all Things fail.
Hence great the Distance 'twixt the Beasts that perish,
And God's bright Image, Man's immortal Race.
The Brute Creation are his Property,
Subservient to his Will, and for him made.
As hurtful these he kills, as useful those
Preserves; their sole and arbitrary King.
Shou'd he not kill, as erst the Samian Sage
Taught unadvis'd, and Indian Brachmans now
As vainly preach; the teeming rav'nous Brutes
Might fill the scanty Space of this Terrene,
Incumb'ring all the Globe: Shou'd not his Care
Improve his growing Stock, their Kinds might fail,
Man might once more on Roots and Acorns feed,
And thro' the Deserts range, shiv'ring, forlorn,
Quite destitute of ev'ry Solace dear,
And ev'ry smiling Gayety of Life.
(Bk IV, ll. 1-22, p. 78-79)",,23039,"","""The Soul / Of Man alone, that Particle divine, / Escapes the Wreck of Worlds, when all Things fail.""","",2013-10-25 20:57:48 UTC,""