work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context
3615,Refinement,"Searching ""heart"" and ""dross"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2005-07-19 00:00:00 UTC,"Things that the least of drossy mixture hold,
Last longest; my Hearts flames Ætherial be,
More pure than seven times refined Gold,
Than Cedar's flames: rays of a Deitie
They are. It is the purity of Love
Which best of all its constancy can prove.",2011-12-21,9388,"","""Things that the least of drossy mixture hold, / Last longest; my Hearts flames Ætherial be, / More pure than seven times refined Gold / Than Cedar's flames: rays of a Deitie / They are.""",Metal,2011-12-21 17:31:34 UTC,""
3620,"","Searching ""heart"" and ""steel"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2005-06-09 00:00:00 UTC,"A tender Infant's Cry ne'r Mother call'd
With more maternal speed (that what it ail'd
She might know; doubting each Stone in the Way
It's tender legs might to a fall betray)
Then GRACE new summon'd by the Pilgrims Cry,
Hasted down from her Throne of Majesty.
Her Beauty made his adversaries start,
The Will shrunk back and shew'd a fainter heart.
GRACE though she could have with one single dart
The stubborn Will pierc'd th'row her Steely heart.
Laid by her threatning Weapons, and did shew
The suavity she ever us'd to do:
And smiling, thus unto the Will she spake,
What is the reason that you would forsake
The Pilgrim to his Blisse? Shall pleasures? sence?
And Passions strong conspiracy from thence
Detain you? 'tis the World and Sathan that
Hath circumvented you into this Plot.
All what they promise are meer shaddows, know
That all things be so that are here below.
Why fear this Gate? This will indeed conduct
You to a higher Sphear; your Way obstruct
Back to the Dunghill Earth: what then? if here
You pleasures find, much more in that bright Sphear
You shall unto Eternity enjoy;
And there where is an everlasting Day
You shall reside, inthron'd in Blisse shall be
One with that Will which first created thee.
Shall Earth to Heav'n be prefer'd? below
How full of uglinesse do all things show
To eyes which heav'n's Beauties see; dung ne're
Did unto Jewels half so vile appear.
Wilt thou not then forsake this world, and passe
Thorow this Gate unto this blessed place?
Let my entreats of Love prevail so far,
When for your happinesse they spoken are:
Be not a Captive to the world, but be
One unto Heav'n, and that is to be free.",,9396,•REVISIT and Read this poem: Inner and Outer. ,"""GRACE though she could have with one single dart / The stubborn Will pierc'd th'row her Steely heart.""",Metal,2011-12-21 18:15:39 UTC,""
3621,Soliloquy,HDIS,2004-03-11 00:00:00 UTC,"The Poets Soliloquy
Why do I droop, like flowers opprest with rain?
What cloud of sorrow doth my colour stain?
I like a Sparrow on the house alone
Do sit, and like a Dove I mourn and groan:
Doth discontent, or sad affliction bind,
And stop the freedom of my Nobler mind?
No, no, I know the cause; I do retire,
To quench old flames, and kindle better fire:
It is my comfort to escape the rude
And sluttish trouble of the multitude:
Flowers, rivers, woods, the pleasant air and wind,
With Sacred thoughts, do feed my serious mind:
My active soul doth not consume with rust,
I have been rub'd, and now are free from dust.
Let moderation rule my pensive way;
Students may leave their books, and sometimes play",,9409,•Published in Flamma Sine Fumo (1662)
•An anti-metaphor,"The ""active soul doth not consume with rust""",Metal,2009-09-14 19:34:12 UTC,I've included the whole poem
3627,"","Searching ""heart"" and ""iron"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2005-06-07 00:00:00 UTC," The holy Sisters, often pray,
And Scriptures, Eke unfold,
Yet men, as though 'twere out oth'way,
Ne're harke, to what is told:
You may speak, as well, to an Image of dough,
Not one, cares whether, you Teach, or no,
Their Hearts are as hard, as Iron too,
As tough, but not so cold.",,9417,"","""Their Hearts are as hard, as Iron too, / As tough, but not so cold.""",Metal,2013-06-21 19:35:00 UTC,""
3651,"",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2005-05-27 00:00:00 UTC,"His Spir't burns up our dross, & makes our graces
Sparkle like furnace gold, Christ the mind fills
With light in us, a tender heart he places;
And files off the Rebellion of our Wills.
Upon the Soul he rises, and he brings
An healing vertue in his balmie wings.",,9475,•I've included twice: Dross and Gold,"""His Spir't burns up our dross, & makes our graces / Sparkle like furnace gold""",Metal,2009-09-14 19:34:15 UTC,""
3651,"",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2005-05-27 00:00:00 UTC,"Philosophers affirm that Mines of Gold,
Are always fruitless, and the Devils Freehold:
So are those minds that Gold admire do,
Barren, and haunted by the Devil too.
",,9479,•I've included twice: Mine and Haunting,"""So are those minds that Gold admire do, / Barren, and haunted by the Devil too.""",Metal,2009-09-14 19:34:15 UTC,""
3654,"",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2005-05-31 00:00:00 UTC,"God multiplies his Mercies more and more,
Ungrateful we, who to our sins vast score
Add new offences daily; but be't known,
God hath large showres of vengeance to pour down
Upon our guilty souls, unless we rent
Our rocky hearts, and speedily repent.",,9482,"","""God hath large showres of vengeance to pour down / Upon our guilty souls, unless we rent / Our rocky hearts, and speedily repent.""","",2009-09-14 19:34:15 UTC,I've included the entire poem
3658,Inwardness; Dualism,Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2005-05-31 00:00:00 UTC,"Mans body is a box till death it split
The Soul, that precious Gem is kept in it.",,9486,"","""Mans body is a box till death it split / The Soul, that precious Gem is kept in it.""","",2009-09-14 19:34:15 UTC,I've included the entire poem
3640,Conscience,Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2005-06-07 00:00:00 UTC,"The Conscience was ever, and is still
The fountain of all actions, good or ill;
And all the actings, whether foul or fair,
Of men, are as their Consciences are.
Conscience goes with us where e're we go,
To bear record of whatsoe're we do.
Conscience is Gods Vice-Roy in the Soul,
And all are liable to its controul.
Conscience is Christs Vicar in mans heart,
It keeps Court there, and acts the Judges part.
Its verdict can be by no pow'r repeal'd,
Its stroaks are wounds that never can be heal'd:
It's the Souls Anchor, boldness it maintains
In judgment, and is of unwearied pains.
Conscience is most like God, it is supreme,
But under God this Jewel, O esteem
For its great worth, as rarest next to Christ;
It is our Patron, our Apologist;
It is impartial, active, and sincere,
Gods Register in us; his Harbinger
For to prepare his way; this is beside
Mans faithful Surety, Treasurer and Guide.
The evidence of a good Conscience will
Find with the judge of hearts acceptance still;
Good Conscience is the only Ark that can
Ding down the Dagons of all deeds prophane.
A Conscience unstain'd with blushing crimes,
Holds out in all changes of States and Times.
Mount Sion and good Conscience abide
For ever, and tentations can deride.
A Conscience that is kept free from blame,
Laughs at the false reports of long-tongu'd fame.
Good Conscience will speak within, when all breath,
The doors are shut to ev'ry vocal call.
When riches, husband, wife, parents, friends, breath,
Life, patience, firm hope, assured faith
Have left us; a good Conscience is so fast
A friend, that it sticks to us till the last.
A right good Conscience term this we may,
To live therein until our dying day.
Good Conscience still keeps Holy-day, is bent
To feasting ev'ry day; there is no Lent,
No Fasting-days that interrupt this Feast,
But still the chear is more and more encreas'd.
Who keeps his Conscience from offences clear,
That man keeps Hil'ry Term throughout the year
But he that shipwracks a good Conscience shall
Let in great riches, but the Devil withal.
Good Conscience, as Davids Instrument,
Drives away th'evil Spirit of discontent.
Good Conscience can suck content divine,
From bitt'rest drugs, turn Marah into Wine.
Can sweetly smile, ev'n in afflictions sharp,
This made Pauls Prisons-songs, tun'd Davids harp.
It is a Paradise with pleasures fraught,
All our best duties are without it naught.
It's to the Castle of the Heart a Wall
Of Brass: it is a Christians coat of Mail,
How many do for want of it miscarry!
It is a cordial Electuary:
And very many good ingredients go
Therein, Meat, Drink, Sleep, Ease, Refreshment too.
Good Conscience on God it self can roul;
'Tis Aquavitæ to the swouning soul.
A Conscience that from wickedness is pure,
Can in the Cannons mouth repose secure.
No such provision 'gainst an evil day,
As a good Conscience; this is they say
A constant Feast; who hath a Conscience good,
Fares well although he have no other Food.
A sincere heart will not do any thing
'Gainst Conscience, is bold in suffering;
But ah! fearful of sin, such as upright
would walk, must have God always in their sight.
",,9494,•Rich stanza.,""" But under God this Jewel [the Conscience], O esteem / For its great worth, as rarest next to Christ""","",2009-09-14 19:34:15 UTC,""
3662,"","Searching ""mind"" and ""dross"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2005-07-18 00:00:00 UTC,"'Tis so, and humbly I my will resign,
Nor dare dispute with Providence Divine.
In vain, alas! we struggle with our chains,
But more entangled by the fruitless pains.
For as i'th' great Creation of this All,
Nothing by chance could in such order fall;
And what would single be deform'd confest,
Grows beauteous in its union with the rest:
So Providence like Wisdom we allow,
(For what created once does govern now)
And the same Fate that seems to one Reverse,
Is necessary to the Universe.
All these particular and various things,
Link'd to their Causes by such secret Springs,
Are held so fast, and govern'd by such Art,
That nothing can out of its order start.
The World's God's watch, where nothing is so small,
But makes a part of what composes all:
Could the least Pin be lost or else displac'd,
The World would be disorder'd and defac'd.
It beats no Pulse in vain, but keeps its time,
And undiscern'd to its own height doth climb;
Strung first, and daily wound up by his hand
Who can its motions guide and understand.
No secret cunning then nor multitude
Can Providence divert, cross or delude.
And her just full decrees are hidden things,
Which harder are to find then Births of Springs.
Yet all in various Consorts fitly sound,
And by their Discords Harmony compound.
Hence is that Order, Life and Energy,
Whereby Forms are preserv'd though Matters die;
And shifting dress keep their own living state:
So that what kills this, does that propagate.
This made the ancient Sage in Rapture cry,
That fore the world had full Eternity.
For though it self to Time and Fate submit,
He's above both who made and governs it;
And to each Creature hath such Portion lent,
As Love and Wisdom sees convenient.
For he's no Tyrant, nor delights to grieve
The Beings which from him alone can live.
He's most concern'd, and hath the greatest share
In man, and therefore takes the greatest care
To make him happy, who alone can be
So by Submission and Conformity.
For why should Changes here below surprize,
When the whole World its revolution tries?
Where were our Springs, our Harvests pleasant use,
Unless Vicissitude did them produce?
Nay, what can be so wearisome a pain
As when no Alterations entertain?
To lose, to suffer, to be sick and die,
Arrest us by the same Necessity.
Nor could they trouble us, but that our mind
Hath its own glory unto dross confin'd.
For outward things remove not from their place,
Till our Souls run to beg their mean embrace;
Then doting on the choice make it our own,
By placing Trifles in th' Opinion's Throne.
So when they are divorc'd by some new cross,
Our Souls seem widow'd by the fatal loss:
But could we keep our Grandeur and our state,
Nothing below would seem unfortunate;
But Grace and Reason, which best succours bring,
Would with advantage manage every thing;
And by right Judgment would prevent our moan
For losing that which never was our own.
For right Opinion's like a Marble grott,
In Summer cool, and in the Winter hot;
A Principle which in each Fortune lives,
Bestowing Catholick Preservatives.
'Tis this resolves, there are no losses where
Vertue and Reason are continued there.
The meanest Soul might such a Fortune share,
But no mean Soul could so that Fortune bear.
Thus I compose my thoughts grown insolent,
As th' Irish Harper doth his Instrument;
Which if once struck doth murmur and complain,
But the next touch will silence all again.",,9508,"","""Nor could they trouble us, but that our mind / Hath its own glory unto dross confin'd.""",Metal,2009-09-14 19:34:16 UTC,I've included entire poem