theme,metaphor,work_id,dictionary,provenance,id,created_at,updated_at,reviewed_on,comments,text,context
"","""The Senses stand around; the Spirits roam / To seize and bring the fleeting Objects home: / Thro' every Nerve and every Pore they pass.""",4141,Empire,HDIS (Poetry),10646,2004-07-27 00:00:00 UTC,2013-06-26 17:16:56 UTC,,"","The Mind no nobler Wisdom can attain,
Than to inspect and study all the Man:
His awful Looks confess the Race Divine;
In him the Beauties of the Godhead shine:
With Majesty he fills great Reason's Throne,
The Subject World their rightful Monarch own:
His ranging Soul in narrow Bounds contains
All Nature's Works, o'er which in Peace he reigns;
His Head resembles Jove's Eternal Seat,
In which Inthron'd, he sways the Heav'nly State,
And with assembled Gods, consults of Fate:
The feather'd Envoys, all in shining Crowds;
Attend his Throne, and watch his awful Nods:
Catch his Commands, and thro' the Liquid Air
To the low World the Sacred Errand bear:
Just so the Head of Man contains within
The Intellect, with Rays and Light Divine:
The Senses stand around; the Spirits roam
To seize and bring the fleeting Objects home:
Thro' every Nerve and every Pore they pass,
And fill with chearful Light the gloomy Space;
The Heart, the Center of the manly Breast,
Just like the Sun, in lovely Purple drest,
Diffuses all the Liquid Crimson round,
Whence Life, and Vigour, Heat and Strength abound:
And as great Phoebus sometimes rages high,
And scorches with his Beams the sultry Sky:
So when the Heart with Rage, or flaming Ire,
Grows warm, or burns with Love's consuming Fire:
The catching Virals spread the Flames afar.
And all the Limbs the hot Contagion share,
As solid Shores contain the liquid Seas,
Just so the Stomach, a soft watry Mass,
Stagnates beneath and fills the lower Space:
Here, Winds, and Rains, and humid Vapours lie,
And these exhal'd with Heat, all upwards fly:
As mantling Clouds conceal the fickly Sun,
Dissolve in Dew and drive the Tempest down:
So when thick Humours from the Stomach rise,
They damp the Soul, and sprightly Faculties:
Then Night and Death their gloomy Shades display,
Till the bright Spark within, the heav'nly Ray,
Dispels the Darkness, and restores the Day.
",""
"","""But was it made for nothing else beside / Passions to draw, and Reason to be Guide? / Was so much Art employ'd to drag and drive / Nothing within the Vehicle alive? / No seated Mind that claims the moving Pew, / Master of Passions, and of Reason too?""",6366,Animals,Searching in HDIS (Poetry),19859,2012-07-05 05:00:48 UTC,2013-03-25 01:39:13 UTC,,A metaphor in a metaphor: moving pew.,"Strong Passions draw, like Horses that are strong,
The Body-Coach of Flesh and Blood along;
While subtle Reason, with each Rein in Hand,
Sits on the Box, and has them at Command;
Rais'd up aloft, to see and to be seen,
Judges the Track, and guides the gay Machine.
But was it made for nothing else beside
Passions to draw, and Reason to be Guide?
Was so much Art employ'd to drag and drive
Nothing within the Vehicle alive?
No seated Mind, that claims the moving Pew,
Master of Passions, and of Reason too?
The grand Contrivance why so well equip
With strength of Passions, rul'd by Reason's Whip?
Vainly profuse had Apparatus been,
Did not a reigning Spirit rest within;
Which Passions carry, and sound Reason means
To render present at pre-order'd Scenes.
They who are loud in human Reason's Praise,
And celebrate the Drivers of our Days,
Seem to suppose, by their continual Bawl,
That Passions, Reason, and Machine, is all;
To them the Windows are drawn up, and clear
Nothing that does not outwardly appear.
Matter and Motion, and superior Man
By Head and Shoulders, form their reas'ning Plan.
View'd and demurely ponder'd, as they roll,
And scoring Traces on the Paper Soul,
Blank, shaven white, they fill th' unfurnish'd Pate
With new Idéas, none of them innate.
When these Adepts are got upon a Box,
Away they gallop thro' the gazing Flocks;
Trappings admir'd, and the high-mettl'd Brute
And Reason balancing its either Foot;
While seeing Eyes discern, at their Approach,
Fulness of Skill, and emptiness of Coach.
'Tis very well that lively Passions draw,
That sober Reason keeps them all in Awe,--
The one to run, the other to control,
And drive directly to the destin'd Goal.
""What Goal?""--Ay, there the Question should begin:
What Spirit drives the willing Mind within?
Sense, Reason, Passions, and the like, are still
One self-same Man, whose Action is his Will;
Whose Will, if right, will soon renounce the Pride
Of an own Reason for an only Guide;
As God's unerring Spirit shall inspire,
Will still direct the Drift of his Desire.",""
"","""See, see, he smiles amidst his Trance, / And shakes a visionary Lance, / His Brain is fill'd with loud Alarms, / Shouting Armies, clashing Arms, / The softer Prints of Love deface; / And Trumpets sound in ev'ry Trace.""",7410,Impressions and Inhabitants,Searching in Google Books,20543,2013-06-12 13:48:22 UTC,2013-06-12 13:48:41 UTC,,"INTEREST: a ""visionary"" battle, literalized in the brain.","I Ang. See, see, he smiles amidst his Trance,
And shakes a visionary Lance,
His Brain is fill'd with loud Alarms,
Shouting Armies, clashing Arms,
The softer Prints of Love deface;
And Trumpets sound in ev'ry Trace.
Both. Glory Strives,
The Field is won,
Fame revives
And Love is Gone.