text,updated_at,metaphor,created_at,context,theme,reviewed_on,dictionary,comments,provenance,id,work_id
The countless gold of a merry heart
The rubies & pearls of a loving eye
The indolent never can bring to the mart
Nor the secret hoard up in his treasury,2009-09-14 19:33:39 UTC,"""The countless gold of a merry heart / The rubies & pearls of a loving eye / The indolent never can bring to the mart / Nor the secret hoard up in his treasury""",2005-05-27 00:00:00 UTC,I've included the entire poem,"",,Metal,"","Searching ""heart"" and ""gold"" in HDIS (Poetry)",8598,3328
You say reserve & modesty he has
Whose heart is iron his head wood & his face brass
The Fox the Owl the Beetle & the Bat
By sweet reserve & modesty get Fat,2013-09-23 17:24:52 UTC,"""You say reserve & modesty he has / Whose heart is iron his head wood & his face brass.""",2005-06-07 00:00:00 UTC,"I've included the entire poem
VI. Satiric Verses and Epigrams, from Blake's Notebook","",,Metal,"","Searching in HDIS (Poetry); Found again ""iron"" and ""heart""",8616,3343
"Of other woes my Infant Muse shall sing,
Woes, which from undeserv'd misfortunes spring,
Such as the generous and brave may fear,
Such as the noble mind hath felt severe.
There's many a breast which Virtue only sways,
In sad Captivity hath pass'd its days,
Unheeded to complain, by wretches bound,
In whose hard bosoms pity's seldom found,
(Fortune, to genuine Virtue often blind,
Smiles on the base, yet shuns the generous mind).
All ills attend his undelighted soul,
And restless thoughts impatient of controul,
Each new-born day each flatt'ring hope annoys,
For what is life, depriv'd of Freedom's joys?
The greedy Creditor, whose flinty breast
The iron hand of Avarice hath press'd,
Who never own'd Humanity's soft claim,
Self-interest and Revenge his only aim,
Unmov'd, can hear the Parent's heart-felt sigh,
Unmov'd, can hear the helpless Infant cry.
Nor age, nor sex, his rigid breast can melt,
Unfeeling for the pangs, he never felt.
Who scorns the balm of Pity to bestow,
Or sigh responsive for the Wretch's woe,
His hardy soul, unwilling to impart
The godlike feelings of a liberal heart,
Unpitying views the sable scene of Woe,
Nor wipes the pearly tear, he taught to flow.
Hard is the fate of him ordain'd to share,
The bold inquietudes of grief and care,
Peace (god-like maid) on lofty pinion flies,
Far from his breast, and seeks her native skies;
No more his mind with lenient art she cheers,
No more his drooping soul she fondly rears;
Of every friendly gleam of joy bereft,
Hope is the only comfort he has left;
Taught by her power, he every pang sustains,
And meekly learns to smile at all his pains;
Tho' to his lot unnumber'd woes are given,
He yields submissive, to all-judging Heaven.",2009-09-14 19:41:43 UTC,"""The greedy Creditor, whose flinty breast / The iron hand of Avarice hath press'd, / Who never own'd Humanity's soft claim""",2005-06-08 00:00:00 UTC,"","",,"","",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),14715,5498
"Such are the griefs which claim the heart-felt sigh,
And force the feeling drop from Pity's eye:
Who can Humanity's soft power subdue,
Or who unmov'd, the Captive's misery view?
Where dwells the soul against Compassion steel'd,
Or who disdains the generous tear to yield?
If such there are, (forbid it, bounteous Heaven!)
May all their crimes hereafter be forgiven,
And may the injur'd Powers on them bestow,
That Pity, they refuse to others' woe.",2009-09-14 19:41:43 UTC,"""Where dwells the soul against Compassion steel'd, / Or who disdains the generous tear to yield?""",2005-06-12 00:00:00 UTC,"","",,Metal,"","Searching ""soul"" and ""steel"" in HDIS (Poetry)",14717,5498
"King.
O thou, to whose fury the nations are
But as dust! maintain thy servant's right.
Without thine aid, the twisted mail, and spear,
And forged helm, and shield of seven times beaten brass,
Are idle trophies of the vanquisher.
When confusion rages, when the field is in a flame,
When the cries of blood tear horror from heav'n,
And yelling death runs up and down the ranks,
Let Liberty, the charter'd right of Englishmen,
Won by our fathers in many a glorious field,
Enerve my soldiers; let Liberty
Blaze in each countenance, and fire the battle.
The enemy fight in chains, invisible chains, but heavy;
Their minds are fetter'd; then how can they be free,
While, like the mounting flame,
We spring to battle o'er the floods of death?
And these fair youths, the flow'r of England,
Vent'ring their lives in my most righteous cause,
O sheathe their hearts with triple steel, that they
May emulate their fathers' virtues.
And thou, my son, be strong; thou fightest for a crown
That death can never ravish from thy brow,
A crown of glory: but from thy very dust
Shall beam a radiance, to fire the breasts
Of youth unborn! Our names are written equal
In fame's wide trophied hall; 'tis ours to gild
The letters, and to make them shine with gold
That never tarnishes: whether Third Edward,
Or the Prince of Wales, or Montacute, or Mortimer,
Or ev'n the least by birth, shall gain the brightest fame,
Is in his hand to whom all men are equal.
The world of men are like the num'rous stars,
That beam and twinkle in the depth of night,
Each clad in glory according to his sphere;--
But we, that wander from our native seats,
And beam forth lustre on a darkling world,
Grow larger as we advance! and some perhaps
The most obscure at home, that scarce were seen
To twinkle in their sphere, may so advance,
That the astonish'd world, with up-turn'd eyes,
Regardless of the moon, and those that once were bright,
Stand only for to gaze upon their splendor!",2009-09-14 19:42:15 UTC,"""O sheathe their hearts with triple steel, that they / May emulate their fathers' virtues""",2005-06-09 00:00:00 UTC,"","",,Metal,"","Searching ""heart"" and ""steel"" in HDIS (Poetry)",14909,5585
"Golden Apollo, that thro' heaven wide
Scatter'st the rays of light, and truth's beams!
In lucent words my darkling verses dight,
And wash my earthy mind in thy clear streams,
That wisdom may descend in fairy dreams:
All while the jocund hours in thy train
Scatter their fancies at thy poet's feet;
And when thou yields to night thy wide domain,
Let rays of truth enlight his sleeping brain.",2009-09-14 19:42:23 UTC,"""In lucent words my darkling verses dight, / And wash my earthy mind in thy clear streams,""",2006-04-25 00:00:00 UTC,"","",,"","","Searching ""throne"" and ""reason"" in HDIS (Poetry)",14952,5591
"But if (which Pow'rs above prevent)
That iron-hearted carl, Want,
Attended, in his grim advances,
By sad mistakes, and black mischances,
While hopes, and joys, and pleasures fly him,
Make you as poor a dog as I am,
Your 'humble servant' then no more;
For who would humbly serve the poor?
But, by a poor man's hopes in Heav'n!
While recollection's pow'r is giv'n,
If, in the vale of humble life,
The victim sad of Fortune's strife,
I, thro' the tender-gushing tear,
Should recognise my master dear;
If friendless, low, we meet together,
Then, sir, your hand--my Friend and Brother!",2009-09-14 19:42:46 UTC,"""But if (which Pow'rs above prevent) / That iron-hearted carl, Want, / Attended, in his grim advances, / By sad mistakes, and black mischances""",2005-06-07 00:00:00 UTC,"","",,Metal,"","Searching ""iron"" and ""heart"" in HDIS (Poetry)",15103,5651
"Shall Virtue's lips record, and claim
The fairest honors of thy name!
'Tis ever Nature's gen'rous view;
Great minds should noble ends pursue;
As the clear sun-beam, when most bright,
Warms, in proportion to its light.--
And RICHMOND, he! who, high in birth,
Adds the unfading rays of worth;
Who stoops, from scenes in radiance drest,
To east the mourner's aching breast;
The tale of private woe to hear,
And wipe the friendless orphan's tear!--
His bosom for the Captive bleeds,
He, Guardian of the injur'd! pleads
With all the force that Genius gives,
And warmth that but with Virtue lives;
For Virtue, with divine controul,
Collects the various powers of soul;
And lends, from her unsullied source,
The gems of thought their purest force.
(pp. 5-6, ll. 61-80)",2011-09-02 18:47:06 UTC,"""For Virtue, with divine controul, / Collects the various powers of soul; / And lends, from her unsullied source, / The gems of thought their purest force.""",2011-09-02 18:47:06 UTC,"","",,"","",Reading,19120,7080
"Who, from his far-divided shore,
The half-expiring Captive bore?
Those, whom the traffic of their race
Has robb'd of every human grace;
Whose harden'd souls no more retain
Impressions Nature stamp'd in vain;
All that distinguishes their kind,
For ever blotted from their mind;
As streams, that once the landscape gave
Reflected on the trembling wave,
Their substance change, when lock'd in frost,
And rest, in dead contraction lost;--
Who view unmov'd, the look, that tells
The pang that in the bosom dwells;
Heed not the nerves that terror shakes,
The heart convulsive anguish breaks;
The shriek that would their crimes upbraid,
But deem despair a part of trade.--
Such only, for detested gain,
The barb'rous commerce would maintain.
The gen'rous sailor, he, who dares
All forms of danger, while he bears
The BRITISH Flag o'er untrack'd seas,
And spreads it on the polar breeze;
He, who in Glory's high career,
Finds agony, and death are dear;
To whose protecting arm we owe
Each blessing that the happy know;
Whatever charms the soften'd heart,
Each cultur'd grace, each finer art,
E'en thine, most lovely of the train!
Sweet Poetry! thy heav'n-taught strain--
His breast, where nobler passions burn,
In honest poverty, would spurn
That wealth, Oppression can bestow,
And scorn to wound a fetter'd foe.
True courage in the unconquer'd soul
Yields to Compassion's mild controul;
As, the resisting frame of steel
The magnet's secret force can feel.
(pp. 13-6, ll. 209-247)",2011-09-02 19:11:33 UTC,"""True courage in the unconquer'd soul / Yields to Compassion's mild controul; / As, the resisting frame of steel / The magnet's secret force can feel.""",2011-09-02 19:11:33 UTC,"","",,Metal,INTEREST: USE IN ENTRY,Reading,19127,7080
"When borne at length to Western Lands,
Chain'd on the beach the Captive stands,
Where Man, dire merchandize! is sold,
And barter'd life is paid for gold;
In mute affliction, see him try
To read his new possessor's eye;
If one blest glance of mercy there,
One half-form'd tear may check despair!--
Ah, if that eye with sorrow sees
His languid look, his quiv'ring knees,
Those limbs, which scarce their load sustain,
That form, consum'd in wasting pain;
Such sorrow melts his ruthless eye
Who sees the lamb, he doom'd to die,
In pining sickness yield his life,
And thus elude the sharpen'd knife.--
Or, if where savage habit steels
The vulgar mind, one bosom feels
The sacred claim of helpless woe--
If Pity in that soil can grow;
Pity! whose tender impulse darts
With keenest force on nobler hearts;
As flames that purest essence boast,
Rise highest when they tremble most.--
Yet why on one poor chance must rest
The int'rests of a kindred breast?
Humanity's devoted cause
Recline on Humour's wayward laws?
To Passions rules must Justice bend,
And life upon Caprice depend?--
(pp. 16-18, ll. 249-278)",2011-09-02 19:21:06 UTC,"""Or, if where savage habit steels / The vulgar mind, one bosom feels / The sacred claim of helpless woe-- / If Pity in that soil can grow; / Pity! whose tender impulse darts / With keenest force on nobler hearts; / As flames that purest essence boast, / Rise highest when they tremble most.""",2011-09-02 19:21:06 UTC,"","",,Metal,"",Reading,19128,7080