work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context
5268,"","",2004-06-22 00:00:00 UTC,"WAGG.
Well but stay darling don't cry--Lord help it, how it's little breast pants and heaves; you say this officer took you away; where did he take you chicken?
PRIS.
To his lodging, for he said he loved me so, he could not live without me, and if I did not comply with his desires, he said, he would kill himself on the spot.
BARN.
Comply with his desires!
PRIS.
I knew now, he would be in a passion.
WAGG.
Contain yourself, worthy, Sir; you hear this young fellow loved her; alas! Mr. Barnacle what is man? Man in this world, Sir, may be compared to a hackney-coach upon a stand; continually subject to be drawn by his unruly appetites, on one foolish jaunt or another; but you will say, if his appetites are horses, which as it were drag him along, reason is the coachman to rule those horses--But, Sir, when the coachman reason, is drunk with passion--
BARN.
Hark you hussy, I have but one question more to ask you, are you ruin'd, or not?
PRIS.
Oh ho--he, he, he.
(III.ii, pp. 50-1)",2012-04-19,14183,"•INTEREST. Cross-reference: Plato's Phaedrus.
•I've included thrice: Animals and Uncategorized and Government
• USED IN ENTRY","""Man in this world, Sir, may be compared to a hackney-coach upon a stand; continually subject to be drawn by his unruly appetites, on one foolish jaunt or another; but you will say, if his appetites are horses, which as it were drag him along, reason is the coachman to rule those horses--But, Sir, when the coachman reason, is drunk with passion--""",Beasts and Inhabitants,2014-07-11 20:25:03 UTC,Act III. Scene ii.
5372,"",HDIS,2004-09-01 00:00:00 UTC," Come, then, O come, and bring along
With thee, thy whole celestial Train;
Fair Truth, to grace the moral Song;
And Elegance, that loves the Plain:
Let frolic Nature too be there,
While Art her Flight restrains;
Let Fancy mount the rapid Car,
And Judgement hold the Reins:
Let Eloquence her Beauties join;
And Wit her softer Charm combine:
Let Sense with Sweetness, too, conspire;
And female Ease with manly Fire:
Let bright Invention's magic Sway
Wake airy Nothings into Day;
And Memory, Goddess heavenly-born,
Bid Times long past again return:
Haste, then, O haste thee from the Skies;
And teach me all thy Art to move,
By secret Springs to bid the Passions rise,
Swell'd into Rage, or soften'd into Love.
",,14448,•I've included twice: Horse and Coach.
•BIO: Moore and R. B. Sheridan attended Whyte's school. ,"Fancy may ""mount the rapid Car, / And Judgement hold the Reins""","",2009-09-14 19:40:55 UTC,""
6366,"","Searching ""passion"" and ""horse"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2012-07-05 04:57:32 UTC,"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.",,19858,"","""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.""",Beasts,2012-07-05 04:57:32 UTC,""
6366,"",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2012-07-05 05:00:48 UTC,"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.",,19859,A metaphor in a metaphor: moving pew.,"""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?""",Animals,2013-03-25 01:39:13 UTC,""
7399,"",Reading,2013-06-05 19:54:37 UTC,"And why? Because he thinks himself immortal.
All men think all men mortal but themselves;
Themselves, when some alarming shock of Fate
Strikes through their wounded hearts the sudden dread.
But their hearts wounded, like the wounded air,
Soon close; where pass'd the shaft, no trace is found.
As from the wing no scar the sky retains,
The parted wave no furrow from the keel,
So dies in human hearts the thought of death.
E'en with the tender tear which Nature sheds
O'er those we love, we drop it in their grave.
Can I forget Philander? That were strange.
O my full heart!--But should I give it vent,
The longest night, though longer far, would fail,
And the lark listen to my midnight song.
(ll. 423-437, pp. 47-8 in CUP edition)",,20396,"","""But their hearts wounded, like the wounded air, / Soon close; where pass'd the shaft, no trace is found. / As from the wing no scar the sky retains, / The parted wave no furrow from the keel, / So dies in human hearts the thought of death.""",Animals,2013-06-11 14:45:55 UTC,Night the First
5343,"",Reading,2013-10-28 02:44:07 UTC,"When health and vigour swell'd my youthful veins,
Lust drew my carriage, Folly held the reins,
A thousand times I wish'd the wench to meet,
Blest with a generous heart, and power to treat:
If I had had such luck, I had been vain,
Vain of my person, and my parts; when gain
Flow'd in from deeds of heavenly pleasure too,
My manhood had not bore a thing so new;
It wou'd have turn'd my head, t'have been in pay,
With the dear sex I kneel to, night and day:
But Venus knew the folly of her son,
Intending always he shou'd be undone,
But not at once;---for had it been my fate,
Ye gods to've had a beauty of that Rate,
Like giddy Phaeton I'd broke my bones,
In driving such a gen'rous Queen as Jones.
(ll. 1039-1054)",,23090,"","""When health and vigour swell'd my youthful veins, / Lust drew my carriage, Folly held the reins.""",Animals,2013-10-28 02:44:07 UTC,""