work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context
4141,"",HDIS (Poetry),2004-07-27 00:00:00 UTC,"The Mind no nobler Wisdom can attain,
Than to inspect and study all the Man:
His awful Looks confess the Race Divine;
In him the Beauties of the Godhead shine:
With Majesty he fills great Reason's Throne,
The Subject World their rightful Monarch own:
His ranging Soul in narrow Bounds contains
All Nature's Works, o'er which in Peace he reigns;
His Head resembles Jove's Eternal Seat,
In which Inthron'd, he sways the Heav'nly State,
And with assembled Gods, consults of Fate:
The feather'd Envoys, all in shining Crowds;
Attend his Throne, and watch his awful Nods:
Catch his Commands, and thro' the Liquid Air
To the low World the Sacred Errand bear:
Just so the Head of Man contains within
The Intellect, with Rays and Light Divine:
The Senses stand around; the Spirits roam
To seize and bring the fleeting Objects home:
Thro' every Nerve and every Pore they pass,
And fill with chearful Light the gloomy Space;
The Heart, the Center of the manly Breast,
Just like the Sun, in lovely Purple drest,
Diffuses all the Liquid Crimson round,
Whence Life, and Vigour, Heat and Strength abound:
And as great Phoebus sometimes rages high,
And scorches with his Beams the sultry Sky:
So when the Heart with Rage, or flaming Ire,
Grows warm, or burns with Love's consuming Fire:
The catching Virals spread the Flames afar.
And all the Limbs the hot Contagion share,
As solid Shores contain the liquid Seas,
Just so the Stomach, a soft watry Mass,
Stagnates beneath and fills the lower Space:
Here, Winds, and Rains, and humid Vapours lie,
And these exhal'd with Heat, all upwards fly:
As mantling Clouds conceal the fickly Sun,
Dissolve in Dew and drive the Tempest down:
So when thick Humours from the Stomach rise,
They damp the Soul, and sprightly Faculties:
Then Night and Death their gloomy Shades display,
Till the bright Spark within, the heav'nly Ray,
Dispels the Darkness, and restores the Day.
",,10646,"","""The Senses stand around; the Spirits roam / To seize and bring the fleeting Objects home: / Thro' every Nerve and every Pore they pass.""",Empire,2013-06-26 17:16:56 UTC,""
4171,"",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2005-05-04 00:00:00 UTC,"Those which from fair and comely Objects fly,
By their own Smoothness please th'affected Eye:
Thro' the Sight's Pores round little Globules steal,
And the charm'd Senses a strange Pleasure feel.
With secret Joy the Soul it self is seiz'd,
And with th'agreeable Idolum pleas'd.
Which wand'ring from the Eyes by Ways unknown,
O'er the soft Bowels and warm Heart is thrown,
And ming'ling in the Womb the fair Idea's sown.
By which kind Nature models her Design;
With forming Hand she Works each beauteous Line,
And all delightsom Things in the Composure joyn.
But if th'Idola from foul Figures rise,
Their roughness Shocks the Soul, and Wounds the Eyes.
And, as with Spears, which grow from bladed Corn,
Invade the Mind, and make the Senses mourn.
Whence strange Dislike surprizes every Part,
And fills with Horrour the recoiling Heart;
Which, thus Contract, does th'ill-form'd Image throw
Into the Womb, and there th'unpleasing Figure sow.
By which Direction, Nature shapes her Aim,
Distorts the Limbs, or does the Piece Defame
With Features most Deform'd; the weeping Mother's Shame.
And, as we often by Experience find,
If a vile Body cloth as vile a Mind,
The World, which by the Looks does Actions scan,
Will in the Child condemn the future Man.",2013-06-04,10773,•I've included twice: Sowing and Wandering,"""Thro' the Sight's Pores round little Globules steal, / And the charm'd Senses a strange Pleasure feel. / With secret Joy the Soul it self is seiz'd, / And with th'agreeable Idolum pleas'd. / Which wand'ring from the Eyes by Ways unknown, / O'er the soft Bowels and warm Heart is thrown, / And ming'ling in the Womb the fair Idea's sown.""",Inhabitants,2013-06-04 16:12:51 UTC,""