text,updated_at,metaphor,created_at,context,theme,reviewed_on,dictionary,comments,provenance,id,work_id
"PHAEDRA
I must confess 'tis true thou tell'st me, Nurse,
But forc'd by Passion, I pursue the worse.
Headlong to Ruine runs my knowing Mind,
Which oft turns back, but vainly, Help to find.
So when against the Tide the Sailor toils
To force his loaded Bark, the Current foils
His Pains, down Stream the master'd Vessel's drove.
My Reason's conquer'd by more powerful Love,
Who rules as Tyrant in my captiv'd Breast.
This winged God does Heav'n and Earth infest.
With all-o'er-mast'ring Flames Jove's self he scorches,
Mars more than Fire-Pikes dreads his little Torches.
The God who three-fork'd Thunder frames, who toils,
Unswelter'd in Ætnæan Forges, broils
In his small Fires. Phoebus who bears the Fame
For Archery, this Boy with surer Aim
Tranfixes: through the Earth and ample Skies
A winged Plague to Men and Gods, he flies.
",2009-09-14 19:34:54 UTC,"Reason may be ""conquer'd by more powerful Love""",2004-06-14 00:00:00 UTC,"","",,"","","Searching ""rule"" and ""reason"" in HDIS (Poetry)",10342,3981
" Tho' the Amorous Beau,
So courtly and fine,
Admire a Dress,
And Face of fifteen.
Let Orinda but speak,
Her Tongue will surprize,
And make him her Slave,
Spight of Celia's bright Eyes.
Was she old and deform'd,
Her Wit and her Air,
Would conquer more Hearts,
Than the Young and the Fair.
Those Charms are more noble,
The Lovely and Kind
May vanquish the Body,
She conquers the Mind.
",2010-10-18 17:14:36 UTC,"""Was she old and deform'd, / Her Wit and her Air, / Would conquer more Hearts, / Than the Young and the Fair.""",2005-02-09 00:00:00 UTC,I've included entire poem,"",2010-10-18,"","","Searching ""conque"" and ""heart"" in HDIS (Poetry)",10391,4007
" Tho' the Amorous Beau,
So courtly and fine,
Admire a Dress,
And Face of fifteen.
Let Orinda but speak,
Her Tongue will surprize,
And make him her Slave,
Spight of Celia's bright Eyes.
Was she old and deform'd,
Her Wit and her Air,
Would conquer more Hearts,
Than the Young and the Fair.
Those Charms are more noble,
The Lovely and Kind
May vanquish the Body,
She conquers the Mind.
",2010-10-18 17:08:50 UTC,"""Those Charms are more noble, / The Lovely and Kind / May vanquish the Body, / She conquers the Mind.""",2005-02-06 00:00:00 UTC,I've included entire poem,"",2010-10-18,"","","Searching ""conque"" and ""mind"" in HDIS (Poetry)",10392,4007
"Abandon'd Day, why dost thou now appear?
Thou must no more thy wonted Glories wear;
Oh! Rend thy self out of the circling Year.
With me thou'rt stript of all thy pompous Pride,
Art now no festival Cause, I no Bride:
In thee no more must the glad Musick sound,
Nor pleasing Healths in chearful Bowls go round,
But with sad Cypress dress'd, not Mirtle crown'd;
Ne'er grac'd again with joyful Pageantry:
The once glad Youth that did so honour thee
Is now no more; with him thy Triumph's lost,
He always own'd thee worthy of his Boast.
Such Adorations he still thought thy due,
I learn'd at last to celebrate thee too;
Tho' it was long e're I could be content,
To yield you more than formal Complement;
If my first Offering had been Free-Will,
I then perhaps might have enjoy'd thee still:
But now thou'rt kept like the first mystick Day,
When my reluctant Soul did Fate obey,
And trembling Tongue with the sad Rites comply'd,
With timerous Hand th' amazing Knot I ty'd,
While Vows and Duty check'd the doubting Bride.
At length my reconcil'd and conquer'd Heart,
When 'twas almost too late own'd thy Desert,
And wishes thou wast still, not that thou never wer't;
Wishes thee still that celebrated Day,
I lately kept with sympathizing Joy.
But Ah! thou now canst be no more to me,
Than the sad Relick of Solemnity;
To my griev'd Soul may'st thou no more appear,
Be blotted out of Fate's strict Calender.
May the Sun's Rays ne'er be to thee allow'd,
But let him double every thick wrought Cloud,
And wrap himself in a retiring Shroud;
Let unmixt Darkness shade the gloomy Air,
Till all our sable Horizon appear,
Dismale as I, black as the Weeds I wear;
With me thy abdicated State deplore,
And be like me, that's by thy self no more.",2010-10-18 17:12:24 UTC,"""At length my reconcil'd and conquer'd Heart, / When 'twas almost too late own'd thy Desert, / And wishes thou wast still, not that thou never wer't; / Wishes thee still that celebrated Day,/ I lately kept with sympathizing Joy.""",2005-02-09 00:00:00 UTC,I've included entire poem,"",2010-10-18,"","","Searching ""conque"" and ""heart"" in HDIS (Poetry)",10393,4008
"Right you conclude, reply'd the smiling Boy
Love ruins none, 'tis Men themselves destroy;
And those vile Wretches, which you lately saw,
Transgress'd his Rules, as well as Reason's Law.
They're not Love's Subjects, but the Slaves of Lust,
Nor is their Punishment so great, as just.
For Love and Lust essentially divide,
Like Day and Night, Humility and Pride;
One Darkness hides, t'other does always shine,
This of infernal Make, and that divine.
Reason no gen'rous Passion does oppose;
'Tis Lust, (not Love) and Reason, that are Foes.
She bids you scorn a base inglorious Flame,
Black as the gloomy Shade, from whence it came,
In this, her Precepts should Obedience find,
But yours is not of that ignoble kind.
You Err, in thinking she would disapprove
The brave Pursuit of honourable Love,
And therefore judge what's harmless, an Offence,
Invert her Meaning, and mistake her Sense.
She could not such insipid Counsel give,
As not to love at all, 'tis not to live,
But where bright Virtue, and true Beauty lies,
And that in Delia, charming Delia's Eyes.
Could you, contented, see th' Angelic Maid
In old Alexis' dull Embraces laid?
Or Rough-hewn Tityrus possess those Charms,
Which are in Heaven, the Heaven of Delia's Arms?
Consider, Youth, what Transports you forego,
The most intire Felicity below;
Which is by Fate alone reserv'd for you;
Monarchs have been deny'd, for Monarchs sue.
I own 'tis difficult to gain the Prize,
Or 'twould be cheap, and low in noble Eyes;
But there is one soft Minute, when the Mind
Is left unguarded, waiting to be kind,
Which the wise Lover understanding right,
Steals in like Day upon the Wings of Light.
You urge your Vow, but can those Vows prevail
Whose first Foundation, and whose Reason fail?
You vow'd to leave fair Delia, but you thought
Your Passion was a Crime, your Flame a Fault;
But since your Judgment err'd, it has no Force
To bind at all, but is dissolv'd of Course.
And therefore hesitate no longer here,
But banish all the dull Remains of Fear.
Dare you be happy Youth, but dare, and be;
I'll be your Convoy to the charming she.
What still irresolute? Debating still?
View her, and then forsake her if you will.
",2009-09-14 19:35:53 UTC," 'Tis Lust, (not Love) and Reason, that are Foes",2004-06-22 00:00:00 UTC,"","",,"",
,"",11425,4352
"Right you conclude, reply'd the smiling Boy
Love ruins none, 'tis Men themselves destroy;
And those vile Wretches, which you lately saw,
Transgress'd his Rules, as well as Reason's Law.
They're not Love's Subjects, but the Slaves of Lust,
Nor is their Punishment so great, as just.
For Love and Lust essentially divide,
Like Day and Night, Humility and Pride;
One Darkness hides, t'other does always shine,
This of infernal Make, and that divine.
Reason no gen'rous Passion does oppose;
'Tis Lust, (not Love) and Reason, that are Foes.
She bids you scorn a base inglorious Flame,
Black as the gloomy Shade, from whence it came,
In this, her Precepts should Obedience find,
But yours is not of that ignoble kind.
You Err, in thinking she would disapprove
The brave Pursuit of honourable Love,
And therefore judge what's harmless, an Offence,
Invert her Meaning, and mistake her Sense.
She could not such insipid Counsel give,
As not to love at all, 'tis not to live,
But where bright Virtue, and true Beauty lies,
And that in Delia, charming Delia's Eyes.
Could you, contented, see th' Angelic Maid
In old Alexis' dull Embraces laid?
Or Rough-hewn Tityrus possess those Charms,
Which are in Heaven, the Heaven of Delia's Arms?
Consider, Youth, what Transports you forego,
The most intire Felicity below;
Which is by Fate alone reserv'd for you;
Monarchs have been deny'd, for Monarchs sue.
I own 'tis difficult to gain the Prize,
Or 'twould be cheap, and low in noble Eyes;
But there is one soft Minute, when the Mind
Is left unguarded, waiting to be kind,
Which the wise Lover understanding right,
Steals in like Day upon the Wings of Light.
You urge your Vow, but can those Vows prevail
Whose first Foundation, and whose Reason fail?
You vow'd to leave fair Delia, but you thought
Your Passion was a Crime, your Flame a Fault;
But since your Judgment err'd, it has no Force
To bind at all, but is dissolv'd of Course.
And therefore hesitate no longer here,
But banish all the dull Remains of Fear.
Dare you be happy Youth, but dare, and be;
I'll be your Convoy to the charming she.
What still irresolute? Debating still?
View her, and then forsake her if you will.
",2009-11-29 04:53:49 UTC,"""But there is one soft Minute, when the Mind / Is left unguarded,"" during which ""the wise Lover understanding right, /Steals in like Day upon the Wings of Light.""",2004-06-22 00:00:00 UTC,"","",,"",•I've also included the embedded simile: so this entry appears twice: War and Optics.
,"",11426,4352
"AXALLA.
But see! the Sultan comes!--my beating Heart
Bounds with exulting Motion, Hope, and Fear,
Fight with alternate conquest in my Breast.
Oh! Can I give her from me? Yield her up?
Now mourn thou God of Love, since Honour triumphs,
And crowns his cruel Altars with thy Spoils.
(III.i, p. 32)",2013-07-17 04:00:51 UTC,"""But see! the Sultan comes!--my beating Heart / Bounds with exulting Motion, Hope, and Fear, / Fight with alternate conquest in my Breast.""",2013-07-17 04:00:51 UTC,"Act III, scene i","",,Empire,"",C-H Lion,21848,7548
"Wit, like a hasty Flood, may over-run us,
And too much Sense has oftentimes undone us:
Wit is a Flux, a Looseness of the Brain,
And Sense-abstract has too much Pride to reign:
Wit-unconcoct is the Extream of Sloth,
And too much Sense is the Extream of both;
Abstracted-Wit 'Tis own'd is a Disease,
But Sense-abstracted has no Power to please:
For Sense, like Water, is but Wit condense,
And Wit, like Air, is rarify'd from Sense:
Meer Sense is sullen; stiff, and unpolite,
Meer Wit is Apoplectick, thin, and light:
Wit is a King without a Parliament,
And Sense a Democratick Government:
Wit, like the French, wher'e'er it reigns destroys,
And Sense advanc'd is apt to Tyrannize:
Wit without Sense is like the Laughing-Evil,
And Sense unmix'd with Fancy is the D---l.
Wit is a Standing-Army Government,
And Sense a sullen stubborn P---t:
Wit by its haste anticipates its Fate,
And so does Sense by being obstinate:
Wit without Sense in Verse is all but Farce,
Sense without Wit in Verse is all mine A---.
Wit, like the French, performs before it thinks,
And thoughtful Sense without Performance sinks;
Sense without Wit is Flegmatick and pale,
And is all Head, forsooth, without a Tail:
Wit without Sense is Cholerick and Red,
Has Tail enough indeed, but has no Head.
Wit, like the jangling Chimes, rings all in one,
Till Sense, the Artist, sets them into Tune:
Wit, like the Belly, if it be not fed,
Will starve the Members, and distract the Head.
Wit is the Fruitful Womb where Thoughts conceive,
Sense is the Vital Heat which Life and Form must give:
Wit is the Teeming Mother brings them forth,
Sense is the Active Father gives them Worth.
United: Wit and Sense, makes Science thrive,
Divided: neither Wit nor Sense can live;
For while the Parties eagerly contend,
The Mortal Strife must in their mutual Ruin end.
(pp. 165-7, ll. 353-394)",2013-09-18 15:04:13 UTC,"""Wit is a Standing-Army Government, / And Sense a sullen stubborn P---t.""",2013-09-18 15:04:13 UTC,"","",,"","",Reading,22798,7682
"A meer Obedience, such as is paid only to Authority, and not out of Love and a sense of the Justice and Reasonableness of the Command, will be of an uncertain Tenure. As it can't but be uneasie to the Person who pays it, so he who receives it will be sometimes disappointed when he expects to find it, for that Woman must be endow'd with a Wisdom and Goodness much above what we suppose the Sex capable of, I fear much greater than e're a Man can pretend to, who can so constantly conquer her Passions, and divest her self even of Innocent Self-love, as to give up the Cause when she is in the right, and to submit her enlightned Reason, to the imperious Dictates of a blind Will, and wild Imagination, even when she clearly perceives the ill Consequences of it, the Imprudence, nay Folly and Madness of such a Conduct.
(p. 35)",2014-04-25 03:42:36 UTC,"""As it can't but be uneasie to the Person who pays it, so he who receives it will be sometimes disappointed when he expects to find it, for that Woman must be endow'd with a Wisdom and Goodness much above what we suppose the Sex capable of, I fear much greater than e're a Man can pretend to, who can so constantly conquer her Passions, and divest her self even of Innocent Self-love, as to give up the Cause when she is in the right, and to submit her enlightned Reason, to the imperious Dictates of a blind Will, and wild Imagination, even when she clearly perceives the ill Consequences of it, the Imprudence, nay Folly and Madness of such a Conduct.""",2014-04-25 03:42:36 UTC,"","",,Empire,"",Reading,23802,7872
"For thus old Saws foretel, and Helenus
Anchises drooping Son enliven'd thus;
When Ilium now was in a sinking State;
And he was doubtful of his future Fate:
O Goddess born, with thy hard Fortune strive,
Troy never can be lost, and thou alive.
Thy Passage thou shalt free through Fire and Sword,
And Troy in Foreign Lands shall be restor'd.
In happier Fields a rising Town I see,
Greater than what e'er was, or is, or e'er shall be:
And Heav'n yet owes the: World a Race deriv'd from Thee.
Sages, and Chiefs of other Lineage born
The City shall extend, extended shall adorn:
But from Julus he must draw his Breath,
By whom thy Rome shall rule the conquer'd Earth:
Whom Heav'n will lend Mankind on Earth to reign,
And late require the precious Pledge again.
This Helenus to great AEneas told,
Which I retain, e'er since in other Mould:
My Soul was cloath'd; and now rejoice to view
My Country Walls rebuilt, and Troy reviv'd anew,
Rais'd by the fall: Decreed by Loss to Gain;
Enslav'd but to be free, and conquer'd but to reign.
(pp. 527-8; cf. pp. 831-2 in OUP)",2014-05-26 20:23:27 UTC,"""This Helenus to great AEneas told, / Which I retain, e'er since in other Mould: / My Soul was cloath'd; and now rejoice to view / My Country Walls rebuilt, and Troy reviv'd anew, / Rais'd by the fall: Decreed by Loss to Gain; / Enslav'd but to be free, and conquer'd but to reign.""",2014-05-26 20:23:16 UTC,"","",,"","",Reading ,23863,7163