id,comments,provenance,dictionary,created_at,reviewed_on,work_id,theme,context,updated_at,metaphor,text
12261,"",Reading,Empire,2009-09-14 19:36:47 UTC,2011-05-20,4663,"",I've included the complete poem,2011-05-20 15:45:09 UTC,"""Thus lawless conquerors our town restore, / With the sad marks of their inhuman power; / No art, nor time, such ravage can repair; / No superstructure can these ruins bear.""","The Returned Heart
It must be mine! no other heart could prove
Constant so long, yet so ill-used in love.
How bruised and scarified! how deep the wound!
Senseless, of life no symptom to be found!
Can it be this, that left me young and gay?
Just in the gaudy bloom it fled away:
Unhappy rover! what couldst thou pretend?
Where tyrants reign, can innocence defend?
I'll vow thou art so altered, I scarce know
Thou art the thing, which Strephon sighed for so:
Look how it trembles! and fresh drops declare
It is the same, and he the murderer.
Thus lawless conquerors our town restore,
With the sad marks of their inhuman power;
No art, nor time, such ravage can repair;
No superstructure can these ruins bear.
(p. 177)"
22640,"",Reading,Metal,2013-09-02 03:20:49 UTC,,7665,"",Night the Eighth,2013-09-02 03:20:49 UTC,"""Imagination is the Paphian shop, / Where feeble Happiness, like Vulcan, lame, / Bids foul Ideas, in their dark recess, / And hot as hell, (which kindled the black fires,) / With wanton art, those fatal arrows form / Which murder all thy time, health, wealth, and fame.""","Imagination is the Paphian shop,
Where feeble Happiness, like Vulcan, lame,
Bids foul Ideas, in their dark recess,
And hot as hell, (which kindled the black fires,)
With wanton art, those fatal arrows form
Which murder all thy time, health, wealth, and fame.
Wouldst thou receive them, other Thoughts there are,
On angel-wing, descending from above,
Which these, with art Divine, would counterwork,
And form celestial armour for thy peace.
(p. 175, ll. 994-1003)"