text,updated_at,metaphor,created_at,context,theme,reviewed_on,dictionary,comments,provenance,id,work_id
"LAT.
How quietly he rests! Oh that I could by watching him, hanging thus over him, and feeling all his Care, protract his Sleep!
Oh sleep! thou sweetest Gift of Heav'n to Man,
Still in thy downy Arms embrace my Friend,
Nor loose him from his inexistent Trance
To sense of Yesterday, and pain of Being;
In thee Oppressors sooth their angry Brow,
In thee th' oppress'd forget tyrannick Pow'r,
In thee--
The Wretch condemn'd is equal to his Judge,
And the sad Lover to his cruel Fair;
Nay, all the shining Glories Men pursue,
When thou art wanted, are but empty Noise;
Who then wou'd court the Pomp of guilty Power,
When the Mind sickens at the weary Shew,
And flies to temporary Death for Ease;
When half our Life's Cessation of our Being--
He wakes--
How do I pity that returning Life,
Which I cou'd hazard thousand Lives to save!
(V.v)",2011-05-31 03:37:59 UTC,"""Who then wou'd court the Pomp of guilty Power, / When the Mind sickens at the weary Shew, / And flies to temporary Death for Ease.""",2004-10-13 00:00:00 UTC,"Act V, scene v","",,"",•I've included twice: Death and Disease,Searching HDIS,10434,4029
"MASINISSIA
[alone]
What dreadful havoc in the human breast
The passions make, when unconfin'd, and mad,
They burst, unguided by the mental eye,
The light of reason; which in various ways
Points them to good, or turns them back from ill.
O save me from the tumult of the soul!
From the wild beasts within!--For circling sands,
When the swift whirlwind whelms them o'er the lands;
The roaring deeps that to the clouds arise,
While thwarting thick the mingled lightning flies;
The monster-brood to which this land gives birth,
The blazing city, and the gaping earth;
All deaths, all tortures, in one pang combin'd,
Are gentle to the tempest of the mind.
(I.v.6-14)",2013-06-20 21:08:07 UTC,"""What dreadful havoc in the human breast / The passions make, when unconfin'd, and mad, / They burst, unguided by the mental eye, / The light of reason; which in various ways / Points them to good, or turns them back from ill.""",2010-06-16 05:59:17 UTC,"Act I, Scene v",Mind's Eye,,Eye,"","Reading Julie K. Ellison's Cato's Tears: The Making of Anglo-American Emotion (Chicago and London: U. of Chicago Press, 1999), 63.",17886,6724
"ARVIDA.
Do, rage and chafe, thy Wrath's beneath me, Cristiern.
How poor thy Pow'r, how empty is thy Happiness,
When such a Wretch, as I appear to be,
Can ride thy Temper, harrow up thy Form,
And stretch thy Soul upon the Rack of Passion.
(p. 18)",2013-09-16 04:18:13 UTC,"""How poor thy Pow'r, how empty is thy Happiness, / When such a Wretch, as I appear to be, / Can ride thy Temper, harrow up thy Form, / And stretch thy Soul upon the Rack of Passion.""",2013-09-16 04:18:13 UTC,"","",,"","",LION,22758,7675