work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context
3998,Inwardness,Reading DNB on Mary Mollineux,2005-06-03 00:00:00 UTC,"Tho' the Eternal Wisdom, Sion's King,
Be pleas'd to try his Babes, by Suffering;
Tho' some departing from the Sinner's way,
And walking Sion-ward, become a Prey;
Yea, tho' through Tribulations Israel must
Enter the Promis'd Land, yet Heav'n is just,
And tenderly supports his patient Ones,
Altho' he Chasten his Beloved Sons;
And tho' in Prisons outwardly they be
Confin'd, the Son of Love doth set them free,
And leads in verdant Plains of Liberty:
The fresh fat Valleys, where sweet Shiloh flows,
Upon whose fertile Banks the Lilly grows;
Where, tho' he by some Exercises prove,
He sollaceth with Flaggons of his Love.
Then why should any Murmur? Jesus thus
Extended Signal Favours unto us.
Here are we with the hidden Manna fed,
Tho' with Transgressors we be numbered:
Here can we Prospects from our Tower survey,
With much more Innocent Delight, than they
That range at large; yea, here we may descry
The pleasant Path, hid from the Vult'rous Eye:
Wherein the Righteous follow Christ , their King
And tender Shepherd, to the living Spring
Of Joy; and to his Name, High Praises sing.
Nor can the proudest Walls (tho' ne'er so High,
The Monuments of Grave Antiquity)
Be terrible to Spotless Innocence,
That knows the Rock of Ages a Defence.
Tho' some be from their Families remov'd;
Here Mary's choice may better be improv'd:
And Christ takes care for his, altho' they sit
As unconcern'd, weeping at Jesus Feet:
He'll be a Father to the Family
Of such as, for his Name, in Prison lye;
And fill their Hearts with Everlasting Joy.
These rugged Walls, less grievous are to me,
Than those bedeck'd with curious Arras be
T'a guilty Conscience; to a wounded Heart,
A Palace cannot palliate that smart:
Tho' drunk with Pleasure, dull with Opiates,
Some seem as Senseless of their sad Estates,
Till on their Dying-Beds Conscience awakes.
But tho' the Righteous be in Bonds confin'd,
They inwardly sweet Satisfaction find.
Neither can stately Roofs, Gates, Bars, nor all
The Art of Man, suppress the Cries and Call,
Or Supplication, or the poorest Sigh,
Of Isr'els Seed; for his Redeemer's nigh;
Who will regard the Cries, and hear the Groans,
Of his Afflicted, Tribulated Ones;
And will, in his appointed Time, arise,
Utterly to confound his Enemies:
Altho' by them he for a Season prove
His Children dear; he'll yet in time remove
The Scourge, and cast the Chast'ning Rod aside,
When Isr'els Faith and Patience he hath try'd.
(pp. 123-5; ll. 1-58)",,10379,"","""These rugged Walls, less grievous are to me, / Than those bedeck'd with curious Arras be / T'a guilty Conscience; to a wounded Heart, / A Palace cannot palliate that smart: / Tho' drunk with Pleasure, dull with Opiates, / Some seem as Senseless of their sad Estates, / Till on their Dying-Beds Conscience awakes. / But tho' the Righteous be in Bonds confin'd, / They inwardly sweet Satisfaction find.""",Fetters,2014-08-18 21:35:53 UTC,""
4141,"","Searching in HDIS (Poetry); found again searching ""soul"" and ""impression""",2005-05-17 00:00:00 UTC,"Reflection is the last and greatest Bliss:
When turning backwards with inverted Eyes,
The Soul it self and all its Charms, surveys,
The deep Impressions of Coelestial Grace
And Image of the Godhead: no alloy
Of Flesh, its sprightly Beauties can destroy;
Nor Death nor Fate can snatch the lasting Joy.
Through ev'ry Limb the active Spirit flows;
Diffusing Life and Vigour as it goes,
But is it self unmixt, and free from Dross;
Reflected on its glitt'ring Form it views
All Nature's Works, with eager Steps persues
The Species as they fly, and subtly draws
From single Objects universal Laws:
Thus whilst great Jove the whirling Engine guides,
And o'er the Times and rolling Year presides:
Still, as he turns the rapid Wheels of Chance,
Himself immortal and unchang'd remains,
And when the empty Scene of Nature cloys,
Sinks in the Godhead, and himself enjoys.",,10658,•Crazy! Eye turned round in its socket.,"""Reflection is the last and greatest Bliss: / When turning backwards with inverted Eyes, / The Soul it self and all its Charms, surveys, / The deep Impressions of Coelestial Grace /
And Image of the Godhead.""",Eye,2013-06-26 17:25:06 UTC,""
4167,Blank Slate,"Reading Kenneth Maclean, John Locke and English Literature of the Eighteenth Century (New York: Russell & Russell, Inc., 1962), p. 34. Found again searching.",2005-03-27 00:00:00 UTC,"When Man with Reason dignify'd is born,
No Images his naked Mind adorn:
No Sciences or Arts enrich his Brain,
Nor Fancy yet displays her pictur'd Train.
He no Innate Ideas can discern
Of Knowledge destitute, tho' apt to learn.
Our Intellectual, like the Body's Eye,
Whilst in the Womb, no Object can descry;
Yet is dispos'd to entertain the Light,
And judge of Things when offer'd to the Sight.
When Objects thro' the Senses Passage gain,
And fill with various Imag'ry the Brain,
Th' Ideas, which the Mind does thence perceive,
To Think and Know the first Occasion give.
Did she not use the Senses Ministry,
Nor ever Taste, or Smell, or Hear, or See,
Cou'd she possest of Pow'r perceptive be?
Wretches, who sightless into Being came,
Of Light or Colour no Idea frame.
Then grant a Man his Being did commence,
Deny'd by Nature each external Sense,
These Ports unopen'd, diffident we guess,
Th' unconscious Soul no Image could possess.
Tho' what in such a State the restless Train
Of Spirits would produce, we ask in vain.
The Mind proceeds, and to Reflection goes,
Perceives she does Perceive, and knows she Knows.
Reviews her Acts, and does from thence conclude
She is with Reason and with Choice endu'd.
(VII, ll. 228-256, pp. 324-6)",,10761,"•I've included twice: Images and Naked
•Maclean cites this as an example of a contemporary reference ""in which the notion of tabula rasa is intended, though none of the familiar figures are employed"" (34). ","""When Man with Reason dignify'd is born, / No Images his naked Mind adorn: / No Sciences or Arts enrich his Brain, / Nor Fancy yet displays her pictur'd Train.""","",2016-05-11 18:46:32 UTC,Book VII
4344,Mind and Body,Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2005-04-20 00:00:00 UTC,"O King supreme, and Father of the Night,
Monarch of Shades, and of resistless Might!
For whom our Looms are furnish'd, who dost give
All Things to perish, and again to live,
And, each distributing with awful Sway,
Dost Life with Death alternately repay:
For from the common Mass whate'er is bred
In Nature's Round, does from thy Gift proceed,
To thee returns; and when the measur'd Pause
Of rolling Years is run, by certain Laws,
The passing Minds their former Load sustain,
Are born, tho' loth, and sheath'd in Flesh again;
Seek not to break th' establish'd Bands of Peace
Which we have fix'd, thy impious Arms release,
Nor sound the Signal for thy Troops to move,
With Civil Rage, against the Gods above.
Why dost thou bring the Titans to the Light?
Petition Jove, and he will do thee Right;
A charming Bride thy longing Arms shall bless,
And, with her Beauties, crown thy Happiness.
(Cf. p. 6 in 1714 ed.)",,11379,"","""The passing Minds their former Load sustain, / Are born, tho' loth, and sheath'd in Flesh again.""","",2013-10-10 20:37:28 UTC,""
4382,"",HDIS (Poetry),2003-10-28 00:00:00 UTC,"'Tis hard, he cries, to bring to sudden sight
Ideas that have wing'd their distant flight:
Rare on the mind those images are trac'd,
Whose footsteps twenty winters have defac'd:
But what I can, receive.--In ample mode,
A robe of military purple flow'd
O'er all his frame: illustrious on his breast,
The double-clasping gold the King confest.
In the rich woof a hound Mosaic drawn
Bore on full stretch, and seiz'd a dappl'd fawn:
Deep in the neck his fangs indent their hold;
They pant, and struggle in the moving gold.
Fine as a filmy web beneath it shon
A vest, that dazzl'd like a cloudless sun:
The female train who round him throng'd to gaze,
In silent wonder sigh'd unwilling praise.
A sabre, when the warrior press'd to part,
I gave, enamel'd with Vulcanian art:
A mantle purple-ting'd, and radiant vest,
Dimension'd equal to his size, exprest
Affection grateful to my honour'd guest.
A fav'rite herald in his train I knew,
His visage solemn sad, of sable hue:
Short woolly curls o'erfleec'd his bending head,
O'er which a promontory-shoulder spread:
Eurybates! in whose large soul alone
Ulysses view'd an image of his own.
",2012-01-28,11538,•REVISIT. How should footsteps be categorized?
•Cross-reference: Footsteps in Locke too. (Think some more about footprints in the mind and the footprint on Defoe's island!),"""Rare on the mind those images are trac'd, / Whose footsteps twenty winters have defac'd.""","",2012-01-28 18:13:52 UTC,""
4442,"",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2003-12-01 00:00:00 UTC,"He's not the happy man, to whom is given
A plenteous fortune by indulgent Heaven;
Whose gilded roofs on shining columns rise,
And painted walls enchant the gazer's eyes:
Whose table flows with hospitable cheer,
And all the various bounty of the year;
Whose valleys smile, whose gardens breathe the spring,
Whose carved mountains bleat, and forests sing?
For whom the cooling shade in summer twines,
While his full cellars give their generous wines;
From whose wide fields unbounded autumn pours
A golden tide into his swelling stores:
Whose winter laughs; for whom the liberal gales
Stretch the big sheet, and toiling commerce sails;
When yielding crowds attend, and pleasure serves;
While youth, and health, and vigour string his nerves.
E'en not all these, in one rich lot combined,
Can make the happy man, without the mind;
Where judgment sits clear-sighted, and surveys
The chain of reason with unerring gaze;
Where fancy lives, and to the brightening eyes,
His fairer scenes, and bolder figures rise;
Where social love exerts her soft command,
And plays the passions with a tender hand,
Whence every virtue flows, in rival strife,
And all the moral harmony of life.
Nor canst thou, D--D----N, this truth decline,
Thine is the fortune, and the mind is thine.
(ll. 1-28, pp. 284-5)",,11696,"•CORRECTING C-H: I've restored HDIS ""lays"" to 1729 ""plays""","""E'en not all these, in one rich lot combined, / Can make the happy man, without the mind; / Where judgment sits clear-sighted, and surveys / The chain of reason with unerring gaze; / Where fancy lives, and to the brightening eyes, / His fairer scenes, and bolder figures rise; / Where social love exerts her soft command, / And plays the passions with a tender hand, / Whence every virtue flows, in rival strife, / And all the moral harmony of life.""",Court and Fetters,2013-06-20 20:25:11 UTC,I've included the complete poem
4640,"",Searching in HDIS (Poetry); text from ECCO-TCP,2005-04-07 00:00:00 UTC,"V.
My Saviour, Thou thy Love to me
In Want, in Pain, in Shame, hast show'd;
For me on the accursed Tree
Thou pouredst forth thy guiltless Blood:
Thy Wounds upon my Heart impress,
Nor ought shall the lov'd Stamp efface.
(p. 157)",2014-02-09,12219,VARIANT: aught/ought. Corr. in HDIS edition? ,"""Thy wounds upon my heart impress, / Nor [a]ught shall the loved stamp efface""",Impression,2014-02-09 19:15:13 UTC,""
6764,"","Reading Michael Genovese's ""'Profess as Much as I': Dignity as Authority in the Poetry of Sarah Fyge Egerton."" The Eighteenth Century 51.1-2 (Spring/Summer 2010): 57.",2010-10-18 17:28:35 UTC,"Bid the fond Mother spill her Infants Blood,
The hungry Epicure not think of Food;
Bid the Antartick touch the Artick Pole:
When these obey I'll force Love from my Soul.
As Light and Heat compose the Genial Sun,
So Love and I essentially are one:
E'er your Advice a thousand ways I try'd
To ease the inherent Pain, but 'twas deny'd;
Tho' I resolv'd, and griev'd, and almost dy'd.
Then I would needs dilate the mighty Flame,
Play the Coquet, hazard my dearest Fame:
The modish Remedy I try'd in vain,
One thought of him contracts it all again.
Weary'd at last, curst Hymen's Aid I chose;
But find the fetter'd Soul has no Repose.
Now I'm a double Slave to Love and Vows:
As if my former Sufferings were too small,
I've made the guiltless Torture-Criminal.
E'er this I gave a loose to fond Desire,
Durst smile, be kind, look, languish and admire,
With wishing Sighs fan the transporting Fire.
But now these soft Allays are so like Sin,
I'm forc'd to keep the mighty Anguish in;
Check my too tender Thoughts and rising Sighs,
As well as eager Arms and longing Eyes.
My Kindness to his Picture I refrain,
Nor now imbrace the lifeless lovely Swain.
To press the charming Shade tho' thro' a Glass,
Seems a Platonick breach of Hymen's Laws,
Thus nicely fond, I only stand and gaze.
View the dear conq'ring Form that forc'd my Fate,
Till I become as motionless as that.
My sinking Limbs deny their wonted Aid,
Fainting I lean against my frighted Maid;
Whose cruel Care restores my Sense and Pain,
For soon as I have Life I love again,
And with the fated softness strive in vain.
Distorted Nature shakes at the Controul,
With strong Convulsions rends my strugling Soul;
Each vital String cracks with th' unequal Strife,
Departing Love racks like departing Life;
Yet there the Sorrow ceases with the Breath,
But Love each day renews th' torturing scene of Death.
",,18002,"","""Distorted Nature shakes at the Controul, / With strong Convulsions rends my strugling Soul; / Each vital String cracks with th' unequal Strife, / Departing Love racks like departing Life; / Yet there the Sorrow ceases with the Breath, / But Love each day renews th' torturing scene of Death.""","",2010-10-18 17:28:52 UTC,I've included the entire poem
7400,"",Reading,2013-06-05 20:56:24 UTC,"Leave to thy foes these errors, and these ills;
To Nature just, their cause and cure explore.
Not short Heaven's bounty, boundless our expense;
No niggard, Nature; men are prodigals.
We waste, not use, our time; we breathe, not live.
Time wasted is existence, used is life.
And bare existence man, to live ordain'd,
Wrings and oppresses with enormous weight.
And why? Since time was given for use, not waste,
Enjoin'd to fly, with tempest, tide, and stars,
To keep his speed, nor ever wait for man;
Time's use was doom'd a pleasure; waste, a pain;
That man might feel his error, if unseen;
And, feeling, fly to labour for his cure;
Not, blundering, split on idleness for ease.
Life's cares are comforts; such by Heaven design'd;
He that has none, must make them, or be wretched.
Cares are employments; and without employ
The soul is on a rack; the rack of rest,
To souls most adverse; action all their joy.
(ll. 145-164, pp. 54-5 in CUP edition)",,20399,"","""The soul is on a rack; the rack of rest, / To souls most adverse; action all their joy.""","",2013-06-05 20:56:24 UTC,Night the Second
7400,"",Reading,2013-06-05 21:11:17 UTC,"But here, Lorenzo, the delusion lies;
That solar shadow, as it measures life,
It life resembles too: Life speeds away
From point to point, though seeming to stand still.
The cunning fugitive is swift by stealth:
Too subtle is the movement to be seen;
Yet soon man's hour is up, and we are gone.
Warnings point out our danger; gnomons, time:
As these are useless when the sun is set;
So those, but when more glorious Reason shines.
Reason should judge in all; in Reason's eye,
That sedentary shadow travels hard.
But such our gravitation to the wrong,
So prone our hearts to whisper what we wish,
'Tis later with the wise than he's aware;
A Wilmington goes slower than the sun:
And all mankind mistake their time of day;
E'en age itself. Fresh hopes are hourly sown
In furrow'd brows. So gentle life's descent,
We shut our eyes, and think it is a plain.
We take fair days in Winter for the Spring;
And turn our blessings into bane. Since oft
Man must compute that age he cannot feel,
He scarce believes he's older for his years.
Thus, at life's latest eve, we keep in store
One disappointment sure, to crown the rest,--
The disappointment of a promised hour.
(ll. 420-446, p. 62 in CUP edition)",,20407,"","""Warnings point out our danger; gnomons, time: / As these are useless when the sun is set; / So those, but when more glorious Reason shines. / Reason should judge in all; in Reason's eye, / That sedentary shadow travels hard.""",Eye,2013-06-05 21:11:17 UTC,Night the Second