work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context
3560,"","Reading Michael McKeon's The Secret History of Domesticity: Public, Private, and the Division of Knowledge. Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 2005. p. 42-3",2006-06-07 00:00:00 UTC," O what a cunning guest
Is this same grief! within my heart I made
Closets; and in them many a chest;
And like a master in my trade,
In those chests, boxes; in each box, a till:
Yet grief knows all, and enters when he will.",,9223,"","""within my heart I made / Closets; and in them many a chest; / And like a master in my trade, / In those chests, boxes; in each box, a till: / Yet grief knows all, and enters when he will.""",Inhabitants,2009-09-14 19:34:03 UTC,Opening stanza
3616,"","Searching ""guest"" and ""breast"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2006-03-15 00:00:00 UTC,"Such is the melancholly Earth, when light
Flies thence, and leaves its room to sable night;
VVhen darkness, Cold and Shadows dwell upon
Her Surface; some pale glimerings of the Moon
Is all she can expect; a mourner then
She is 'till Phoebus brings his day agen:
Such is the matchless, mateless Turtle Dove,
Sighing its murmurs for its absent Love:
Such is the body when the Soul is fled:
Such Pyramus supposing Thisbe dead:
Such the male Palm the female broken down,
As I am now, my fairest Sylvia's gon.
My wither'd Head declines apace, my greem
And growing youth to sprout no more is seen.
My blood's grown cold, and frozen; every limb
As if it wanted heat, and life doth seem.
My hoarse complaints the very rocks do move,
VVho eccho the last accents of my Love.
A silent night inhabits my sad breast,
And now no chearful thought will be my guest.
Till her return, whose eyes will cause a day,
Thus must I in my own unquiet stay;
Wishing for the bright morning, which must rise
From th' Luminaries of fair Sylvia's eyes.",,9389,"","""A silent night inhabits my sad breast, / And now no chearful thought will be my guest.""",Inhabitants,2009-09-14 19:34:11 UTC,""
3761,"","Searching ""breast"" and ""crowd"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2006-03-08 00:00:00 UTC,"Hushai in Silence heard the Prince, and weigh'd
Each word he spake, then to him thus reply'd;
Great Prince, th' Almighty has to you been kind,
Stamp'd Graces on your Body and your mind,
As if he for your Head a Crown design'd.
We shall not search into Fates Secret Womb,
God alone knows the things that are to come;
But should you never sit on David's Throne,
'Tis better to deserve than wear a Crown.
Of Royal Blood, and of great Birth you are,
Born under some benign auspicious Star,
Lov'd by the best, and prais'd by every Tongue,
The glorious Subject of each worthy Song:
The young man's Wish, Joy of each Warlike Wight,
The People's Darling, and the World's Delight.
A Crowd of Vertues fill your Princely Breast,
And what appears more glorious than the rest,
You are of Truth and Loyalty possest.
That I would cherish in you, that would raise
To an admired height, that I would chiefly praise.
Let Fools and subtil Politicians scorn
Fair Vertue, which doth best a Prince adorn:
Whilst you her bright and shining Robes put on,
You will appear more great than Solomon.
Let not Great Prince, the Fumes of Vulgar Praise,
Your bolder Spirits to Ambition raise.
We cannot see into the Mist of Fate,
Till time brings forth, you must expecting wait;
But Fortune, rather Providence, not Chance,
The constant, stout, and wise doth still advance.
Let your quick Eye be to her Motions ty'd;
But still let Noble Vertue be your Guide:
For when that God and Vertue points the way,
There can be then no danger to obey.
But here in Wisdom's School we ought to learn,
How we 'twixt Good and Evil may discern,
For noble Prince, you must true difference make,
Lest for the one the other you mistake.
You must not think you may your self advance,
By laying hold on every proffer'd chance.
Tho Fortune seems to smile, and egg you on,
Let Vertue be your Rule and Guide alone.
Thus David for his Guide his Vertue took;
Nor was by Fortune's proffer'd Kindness shook.
His Vertue and his Loyalty did save
King Saul, when Fortune brought him to his Cave.
And if that I may to you Counsel give,
You should without a Crown for ever live,
Rather than get it by the Peoples Lust,
Or purchase it by ways that are unjust.
David your Ancestor, from whom you spring,
Would never by Rebellion be made King;
But long in Gath a Warring Exile stay'd,
Till for him God a lawful way had made.
In Hebron, full of Glory and Renown,
He gain'd, at last, and not usurpt the Crown.
By full Consent he did the same obtain,
And Heav'n's anointing Oyl was not in vain.
I once did seem to Amazia dear,
Who me above m'ambitious hopes did rear;
I serv'd him then according to my skill,
And bow'd my Mind unto my Soveraign's Will.
Too neer the Soveraign Image then I stood,
To think that every Line and Stroke was good.
Some Daubers I endeavour'd to remove,
And to amend their artless Errours strove.
My Skill in secret these with slander wound;
With every Line I drew still faults were found;
Till wearied, I at last my Work gave o're.
And Amazia (I shall say no more)
Did me to my lov'd Privacy restore.
For this they think I must my Vertue change,
For Envy, Malice, and for sweet Revenge.
Me by themselves they judge, who would do so,
And cause the King suspect me for his Foe.
But by th'advice I give, you best will find
Th'Integrity and Plainness of my Mind;
And that I harbour not that vile intent
Their Poets and their Malice do invent.
Far be't from me, to be like Cursed Cham;
A good Son strives to hide his Father's shame.
A King, the Father of his Country is;
His shame is every Act he doth amiss.
Good and just Kings God's Image bear; but when
Their Frailties let us see they are but Men,
We cannot every Action so applaud,
As if it came from an unerring God.
Kings have their Passions, and deceiv'd may be,
When b'others Ears and Eyes they hear and see:
For Sycophants, of Courts the Bane and Curse,
Make all things better than they are, or worse.
To Evil prone, to Mischief ever bent,
Th'all Objects with false colours represent;
The Guilty clear, condemn the Innocent.
Thus, noble Prince, they you and me accuse
With all the Venome Malice can infuse.
Baal's Priests, Hell, and our Foes, new Arts have got,
The filthy Reliques of their former Plot;
Whereby they would our Lives in danger bring,
And make us cursed Traytors to the King.
What mayn't these cunning men hope to atchieve,
When by their Arts few men their Plot believe?
When b'horrid ways, not known to Jews before,
Their Plot's transform'd, and laid now at our door?
But fear not, Sir, we have a sure Defence,
The Peoples Love, God, Law, and Innocence.
Keep fast your Vertue, and you shall be blest,
And let alone to God and Time the rest.",,9712,"","""A Crowd of Vertues fill your Princely Breast.""",Inhabitants,2011-12-21 18:07:22 UTC,""
3834,"",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2004-08-10 00:00:00 UTC,"This Heart of mine, now wreck'd upon despair,
Was once as free and careless as the Air;
In th' early Morning of my tender years,
E're I was sensible of Hopes and Fears,
It floated in a Sea of Mirth and Ease,
And thought the World was only made to please;
No adverse Wind had ever stopp'd its Course,
Nor had it felt great Love's tempestuous Force,
(That Storm that swells the Tydes of Human Care,
And makes black Waves come rolling from afar,)
'Till too much Freedom made it grow secure,
As if the Sunshine always would endure;
And I, with haughty and disdainful Pride,
Mock'd the blind God, and all his Force defy'd.
At this enrag'd, the injur'd Deity
Chose out the best of his Artillery,
And in a blooming Virgin's Dove-like Eyes
He planted his Victorious Batteries;
(Phillis her Name, the best of Woman-kind,
Could Love have gain'd the Empire of her Mind)
These shot so furiously against my Heart,
That Nature's strength, tho' much improv'd by Art,
With Groans gave way to each resistless stroak,
As when the Thunder rends some sturdy Oak.
The wing'd Battalions from her lovely face
Flew to the Breach, and, rushing in apace,
Did quickly make her Mistress of the place.",,9868,"","""The wing'd Battalions from her lovely face / Flew to the Breach, and, rushing in apace, / Did quickly make her Mistress of the place [the heart].""","",2018-06-18 15:38:35 UTC,""
3843,"","Searching ""soul"" and ""crowd"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2006-03-07 00:00:00 UTC,"Now angry Juno sends from Heaven in spight
Rivers and Seas, instead of moderate showres:
Horror invests the World, and the bright Hours
Of Delos God, are chang'd to dismal Night.
So crowds of anxious Thoughts on ev'ry side,
Invade my Soul, and through my restless Eyes,
I shed such streams of Tears, my Heart e'en tryes
Death's pangs, whilst I by force in Life abide.
But the brisk Gales, which rising by and by,
Where Sol at night in Thetis Lapp shall ly,
Will make Heaven clear, and drive away the Rain.
Ah Cynthia! That the blasts of Sighs I vent,
Could ease my Breast of cloudy Discontent,
Which still with fresh Assaults renews my Pain.",2010-06-01,9883,•I've included twice: Crowd and Invasion,"""So crowds of anxious Thoughts on ev'ry side, / Invade my Soul.""",Inhabitants,2010-06-01 15:29:35 UTC,I've included the entire poem
3865,"",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2006-12-18 00:00:00 UTC,"She that is chast, is always fair,
No matter for her Hue,
And though for form she were a Star,
She's ugly, if untrue:
True Beauty alwayes lies within,
Much deeper, than the outer skin,
So deep, that in a Woman's mind,
It will be hard, I doubt, to find;
Or if it be, she's so deriv'd,
And with so many doors contriv'd,
Harder by much to keep it in.
For Vertue in a Woman's Breast
Seldom by Title is possest,
And is no Tenant, but a wand'ring Guest.",2012-01-12,9918,•I've included twice: Tenant and Guest,"""For Vertue in a Woman's Breast / Seldom by Title is possest, / And is no Tenant, but a wand'ring Guest.""",Inhabitants,2012-01-12 19:48:43 UTC,Stanza V
3916,"","Searching in HDIS (Poetry); found again ""fancy"" and ""crowd""",2005-08-28 00:00:00 UTC,"Now her brown Wings the silent Night displays,
Light sprinkled o'er with Cynthia's silver Rays.
Silence and Darkness all to Rest invite,
And sleep's soft Chains make fast the Gates of Light.
Prince Arthur sleeps, by Summons from on high,
From trembling Joynts, his active Spirits fly
To the round Palace of th' Immortal Soul,
And thro' the Rooms and dark Apartments roll.
The busie Crowd fills all the labouring Brain,
Bright Fancy's Work-house, where close Cells contain
Of Forms and Images an endless Train,
Which thither thro' the waking Senses glide,
And in fair Mem'ry's Magazine abide.
Compos'd of these, light Scenes and Shows appear,
Which still employ the restless Theater.
Divinely mov'd, the Airy Figures take
Their several Ranks, and this bright Vision make.
Prince Arthur, on a verdant Eminence
Conversing with King Uter stood, from whence,
He views with wondring Eyes, great Lords and States,
Crown'd Heads, Victorious Princes, Potentates,
Heroes and Heroines, a glorious Train,
which in long Order fill'd the subject Plain.
Prince Arthur on the Royal Scene intent,
Demands what this August Assembly meant:
For what end thither come, and who they were
That at th' Illustrious Congress did appear.",,10167,"•I've included four times: Crowd, Work-House, Train, Magazine","""The busie Crowd fills all the labouring Brain, / Bright Fancy's Work-house, where close Cells contain / Of Forms and Images an endless Train, / Which thither thro' the waking Senses glide, / And in fair Mem'ry's Magazine abide.""",Inhabitants,2013-07-02 17:19:59 UTC,""
3916,"",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2005-08-28 00:00:00 UTC,"Now her brown Wings the silent Night displays,
Light sprinkled o'er with Cynthia's silver Rays.
Silence and Darkness all to Rest invite,
And sleep's soft Chains make fast the Gates of Light.
Prince Arthur sleeps, by Summons from on high,
From trembling Joynts, his active Spirits fly
To the round Palace of th' Immortal Soul,
And thro' the Rooms and dark Apartments roll.
The busie Crowd fills all the labouring Brain,
Bright Fancy's Work-house, where close Cells contain
Of Forms and Images an endless Train,
Which thither thro' the waking Senses glide,
And in fair Mem'ry's Magazine abide.
Compos'd of these, light Scenes and Shows appear,
Which still employ the restless Theater.
Divinely mov'd, the Airy Figures take
Their several Ranks, and this bright Vision make.
Prince Arthur, on a verdant Eminence
Conversing with King Uter stood, from whence,
He views with wondring Eyes, great Lords and States,
Crown'd Heads, Victorious Princes, Potentates,
Heroes and Heroines, a glorious Train,
which in long Order fill'd the subject Plain.
Prince Arthur on the Royal Scene intent,
Demands what this August Assembly meant:
For what end thither come, and who they were
That at th' Illustrious Congress did appear.",,10171,"•Theater is a replacement metaphor for brain? (Aristotelian paradigm)
•INTEREST. Cross-reference: Hume's theater metaphor.","""Compos'd of these, light Scenes and Shows appear, / Which still employ the restless Theater. / Divinely mov'd, the Airy Figures take / Their several Ranks, and this bright Vision make.""",Inhabitants and Rooms,2013-07-02 17:42:02 UTC,""
6447,"",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2007-12-23 00:00:00 UTC,"These Pictures and a thousand more,
Of Thee, my Gallery dost store;
In all the Forms thou can'st invent
Either to please me, or torment:
For thou alone to people me,
Art grown a num'rous Colony;
And a Collection choicer far
Then or White-hall's, or Mantua's were.
(ll. 41-8)",2007-12-23,17118,"I've included twice: Colony and Collection. Interesting. The lover is colonized by the beloved. But this metaphor is also a Visual Arts metaphor as well.
","""For thou alone to people me, / Art grown a num'rous Colony; / And a Collection choicer far / Then or White-hall's, or Mantua's were.""",Inhabitants,2009-09-14 19:49:06 UTC,""
7133,"",Reading,2011-12-19 14:36:44 UTC,"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)",,19359,"","""Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend, / But is captiv'd, and proves weak or untrue.""","",2011-12-19 14:36:44 UTC,""