updated_at,id,text,theme,metaphor,work_id,reviewed_on,provenance,created_at,comments,context,dictionary
2009-09-14 19:33:33 UTC,8410,"I am this crumb of dust which is design'd
To make my Pen unto thy Praise alone,
And my dull Phancy I would gladly grinde
Unto an Edge on Zions Pretious Stone:
And Write in Liquid Gold upon they Name
My Letters till thy glory forth doth flame.
(p. 33)","","""I am this crumb of dust which is design'd / To make my Pen unto thy Praise alone, / And my dull Phancy I would gladly grinde / Unto an Edge on Zions Pretious Stone.""",3190,2009-03-23,Reading,2003-11-03 00:00:00 UTC,"","",Metal
2011-07-20 13:14:07 UTC,10492," Or lies she now before th' Eternal Throne
Prostrate in humble Form, with deep Devotion
O'erwhelm'd, and Self-abasement at the Sight
Of the uncover'd God-head Face to Face?
Seraphic Crowns pay Homage at his Feet,
And Hers amongst them, not of dimmer Oar,
Nor set with meaner Gems: But vain Ambition,
And Emulation vain, and fond Conceit,
And Pride for ever banish'd flies the Place,
Curst Pride, the Dres of Hell. Tell me, Urania,
How her Joys heighten, and her golden Hours
Circle in Love. O stamp upon my Soul
Some blissful Image of the fair Deceas'd
To call my Passions and my Eyes aside
From the dear breathless Clay, Distressing Sight!
I look and mourn and gaze with greedy View
Of melancholy Fondness; Tears bedewing
That Form so late desir'd, so late belov'd,
Now loathsome and unlovely. Base Disease,
That leagu'd with Nature's sharpest Pains, and spoil'd
So sweet a Structure! The impoysoning Taint
O'erspreads the Building wrought with Skill divine,
And ruins the rich Temple to the Dust!
(p. 306-7)","","""O stamp upon my Soul / Some blissful Image of the fair Deceas'd / To call my Passions and my Eyes aside / From the dear breathless Clay.""",4052,2011-07-20,"Searching ""stamp"" and ""heart"" in HDIS (Poetry); found again",2005-04-08 00:00:00 UTC,"Reviewed 2009-03-23.
Updated text to match 1709 2nd edition in ECCO.
",Book III. Sacred to the Memory of the Dead,Impressions
2014-02-07 15:40:25 UTC,10499,"O 'tis a Thought would melt a Rock,
And make a Heart of Iron move,
That those sweet Lips, that Heavenly Look
Should seek my Kisses and my Love.
(p. 80 in 1706 ed., cf. p. 121 in 1709 ed.)
","","""O 'tis a Thought would melt a Rock, / And make a Heart of Iron move.""",4057,2014-02-07,"Searching ""heart"" and ""iron"" in HDIS (Poetry); found again in ECCO-TCP",2005-06-07 00:00:00 UTC,"Book I. Sacred to Devotion and Piety.
VARIANT: O! 'tis a thought would melt a rock,
And make a heart of iron move,
That those sweet lips, that heav'nly look,
Should seek and wish a mortal love!
CONFIRMED in earliest edition.","",Metal
2009-09-14 19:35:02 UTC,10500,"Princess, the world already owns thy name:
Go, mount the chariot of immortal fame,
Nor die to be renown'd: Fame's loudest breath
Too dear is purchas'd by an angel's death.
The vengeance of thy rod, with general joy,
Shall scourge rebellion and the rival boy:[1]
Thy sounding arms his Gallic patron hears
And speeds his flight; not overtakes his fears,
Till hard despair wring from the tyrant's soul
The iron tears out. Let thy frown control
Our angry jars at home, till wrath submit
Her impious banners to thy sacred feet.
Mad zeal and frenzy, with their murderous train,
Flee these sweet realms in thine auspicious reign,
Envy expire in rage, and treason bite the chain.
","","""Till hard despair wring from the tyrant's soul / The iron tears out.""",4058,,"Searching ""soul"" and ""iron"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2005-06-08 00:00:00 UTC,"•Footnote gives, ""The pretender""","Book II. Sacred to Virtue, Honour and Friendship",Metal
2014-02-07 15:56:40 UTC,10501,"But Heavenly Scenes soon leave the Sight
While we belong to Clay,
Passions of Terror and Delight
Demand alternate Sway.
Behold the Man whose awful Voice
Could well proclaim the Fiery Law,
Kindle the Flames that Moses saw,
And swell the Trumpets Warlike noise.
He stands, the Herald of the Threatning Skies,
Lo, on his Reverend Brow the Frowns Divinely rise,
All Sinai's Thunder on his Tongue, and Lightning in his Eyes.
Round the high Roof the Cursès flew
Distinguishing each guilty Head,
Far from th' unequal War the Atheist fled,
His Kindled Arrows still pursue,
His Arrows strike the Atheist thro',
And fix him down to Dread.
The Marble Heart groans with an inward Wound:
Blaspheming Souls of harden'd Steel
Shriek out amaz'd at the new Pangs they feel,
And dread the Eccho's of the Sound.
The Lofty Wretch Arm'd and Array'd
In gaudy Pride sinks down his Impious Head,
Plunges in dark Despair, and mingles with the Dead.
(pp. 256-7 in 1706 ed.)","","""The Marble Heart groans with an inward Wound: / Blaspheming Souls of harden'd Steel / Shriek out amaz'd at the new Pangs they feel, / And dread the Eccho's of the Sound.""",4059,2014-02-07,"Searching ""soul"" and ""steel"" in HDIS (Poetry); text from ECCO-TCP",2005-06-12 00:00:00 UTC,•I've included twice: Steel and Marble,Book III. Sacred to the Memory of the Dead,Metal
2011-07-20 14:16:26 UTC,11930,"Can I then grieve for ev'ry wretch's woe,
And weep if I but hear a tale of sorrow?
Say, can I share in ev'ry one's affection,
Yet still remain thus stupid to my own?
Is then my heart to all the world beside
Softer than melting wax or summer snow,
But to myself harder than adamant?
Can I behold the ruin Sin has made,
And feel God's image in my soul defac'd;
Nor heave a sigh, nor drop a pitying tear
At my sad fate, nor lift my eyes to heav'n
For aid against the flatt'ries of the world,
The wiles of Satan and the joys of sense?
Give me, ye springs, O give me all your streams
That I may weep; nor thus with stupid gaze
Behold my ruin, like a wretch inchanted
Whose faculties are bound with pow'rful charms,
To some accursed spot of earth confin'd.
Give me, ye gentle winds, your balmy breath
To heave my bosom with continued sighs.--
Teach me, ye wood-doves, your complaining note,
To mourn my fall, to mourn my rocky heart,
My headstrong will, and every sinful thought.
In silent shades retir'd I long to dwell,
Far from the tumults of the busy world,
And all the sounds of mirth and clamorous joy,
Till every stormy passion is subdu'd,
And God has full possession of my soul;
Till all my wishes centre in his will,
And I no more am fetter'd to the world;
Till all the business of my life is praise,
And my full heart o'erflows with heav'nly love,
While all created beauties lose their charms,
And God is all in all.
","","""Is then my heart to all the world beside / Softer than melting wax or summer snow, / But to myself harder than adamant?""",4534,2011-07-20,"Searching ""wax"" and ""heart"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2005-03-27 00:00:00 UTC,"•I've included thrice: Wax, Snow, Adamant.
•Cross-reference: Watts seems to mix here Psalm XXII and Virgil's Pastoral VIII (as translated by Dryden). INTEREST",I've included the entire poem.,""
2009-09-14 19:36:24 UTC,11935," If sins review'd in trickling sorrows flow;
The page conveys the penitential woe,
And strikes the inmost spirit. Conscience hears
The words of anguish, and dissolves in tears.
Ev'n iron souls relent, and hearts of stone
Burst at these mournings, and repeat the groan:
God and his power are there.","","""Conscience hears / The words of anguish, and dissolves in tears. / Ev'n iron souls relent, and hearts of stone / Burst at these mournings, and repeat the groan:""",4537,,"Found again searching ""soul"" and ""iron"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2005-06-07 00:00:00 UTC,•I've included twice: Iron and Stone
,"",Metal
2014-08-18 15:08:20 UTC,16133,"Our Heart, that flinty stubborn thing,
That Terrors cannot move,
That fears no threatenings of his Wrath,
Shall be dissolv'd by Love.
Or else he'll put away the Flint
That cou'd not be refin'd,
And from the Treasures of his grace
Bestow a softer Mind.
There shall his sacred Spirit dwell,
And deep engrave his Law,
And every Motion of our Souls
To swift Obedience draw.
(pp. 11-12)","","""Our Heart, that flinty stubborn thing, / That Terrors cannot move, / That fears no threatenings of his Wrath, / Shall be dissolv'd by Love.""",6103,2011-07-19,Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2005-03-09 00:00:00 UTC,"Variant: ""Or he can take the flint away""","",""
2012-07-02 20:57:57 UTC,16167,"He forms our generals for the field,
With all their dreadful skill;
Gives them his awful sword to wield,
And makes their hearts of steel.","","""He forms our generals for the field, / With all their dreadful skill; / Gives them his awful sword to wield, / And makes their hearts of steel.""",6123,2012-07-02,"Searching ""heart"" and ""Steel"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2005-06-11 00:00:00 UTC,Checked in ECCO and found on page 51 of 1719 edition. ,"",Metal
2014-02-07 15:42:39 UTC,23396,"COME let me Love: or is my Mind
Harden'd to Stone, or froze to Ice?
I see the Blessed Fair One bend
And stoop t' embrace me from the Skies!
(p. 80 in 1706 ed.)","","""COME let me Love: or is my Mind / Harden'd to Stone, or froze to Ice?""",4057,,Reading; text from ECCO-TCP,2014-02-07 15:42:25 UTC,"","",""