text,updated_at,metaphor,created_at,context,theme,reviewed_on,dictionary,comments,provenance,id,work_id "Now here, now there, she flies with wild Despair,
Her Locks dishevel'd streaming in the Air;
She seeks the Shore, and finds the Vessel gone;
And then, (O heavens!) with what excessive Moan
She fill'd the Place! Within the briny Sea
She would have plung'd, but, ah! that might not be;
She was prevented by the God of Wine,
Who, full of Pity, us'd his Pow'r divine,
To calm her stormy Soul, to ease her Pain,
And place her Reason in its Throne again:
But, Deaf to all the pleading Pow'r could say,
She stopt her Ears, and would have forc'd away.
'Tis thou, said she, (with Fury in her Eyes)
Hast made my dear lov'd Lord a Sacrifice!
Canst thou not kill me too, that I may go
And seek him in the peaceful Shades below?
",2009-09-14 19:36:11 UTC,"Bacchus may calm a stormy soul and ""place ... Reason in its Throne again""",2004-07-19 00:00:00 UTC,"","",,"",•I've included twice: in Throne and Tempest,Searching in HDIS (Poetry),11709,4445