theme,metaphor,work_id,dictionary,provenance,id,created_at,updated_at,reviewed_on,comments,text,context
"","""When she to foreign Objects Audience gives, / Their Strokes and Motions in the Brain perceives, / As these Perceptions we Ideas name, / From her own Pow'r and active Nature came, / So when discern'd by Intellectual Light, / Her self her various Passions does excite, / To Ill her Hate, to Good her Appetite: /
To shun the first, the latter to procure, / She chuses Means by free Elective Pow'r.""",4167,Empire and Inhabitants,Searching in HDIS (Poetry),10781,2005-05-17 00:00:00 UTC,2013-08-07 14:35:43 UTC,,•INTEREST. RICH passage. I've cut and pasted the whole book for study.,"Objects, which thro' the Senses make their Way,
And just Impressions to the Soul convey,
Give her Occasion first her self to move,
And to exert her Hatred, or her Love.
Ideas, which to some impulsive seem,
Act not upon the Mind, but That on them.
When she to foreign Objects Audience gives,
Their Strokes and Motions in the Brain perceives,
As these Perceptions we Ideas name,
From her own Pow'r and active Nature came,
So when discern'd by Intellectual Light,
Her self her various Passions does excite,
To Ill her Hate, to Good her Appetite:
To shun the first, the latter to procure,
She chuses Means by free Elective Pow'r.
She can their various Habitudes survey,
Debate their Fitness, and their Merit weigh,
And while the Means suggested she compares,
She to the Rivals This or That prefers.
(VII, ll. 446-464, pp. 338-9)
",Book VII
"","""His Fancy still awake; the roving Guest / Usurps the Throne of Reason in his Breast: / Forms great Ideas, and religious Schemes, / A busy mime, and floats in golden Dreams.""",4337,Empire,"Searching ""throne"" and ""reason"" in HDIS (Poetry); found again ""idea""; and again ""fancy""; confirmed in ECCO.",11338,2004-07-19 00:00:00 UTC,2014-03-07 21:05:13 UTC,,•I've included twice: Throne and Guest,"It chanc'd, when soft Favonian gusts untie
The stiff'ned Floods, and warm the frozen Sky;
When genial heats distil on every Gale,
And various Flora paints the blushing Vale:
The smiling Season call'd our Hero forth,
To view her op'ning Blooms, and lab'ring Earth:
Silent he strays along the lonely Mead,
Where Shrubs their aromatick Fragrance bleed;
His Thoughts a while unbent from doing Good,
Wrapt in the Murmurs of the Vocal flood:
When, faint with Age, or sudden Cares oppress'd,
On the green Herb he stretch'd his Limbs to rest;
Thick Shades, obsequious to the Call, arise,
And a deep Slumber seals his weary Eyes;
His Fancy still awake; the roving Guest
Usurps the Throne of Reason in his Breast:
Forms great Ideas, and religious Schemes,
A busy mime, and floats in golden Dreams.
(cf. p. 28 in 1720 edition)",""