id,dictionary,theme,reviewed_on,metaphor,created_at,provenance,comments,work_id,text,context,updated_at
15054,"","",,"One's ""chill'd ideas [may] quit their frozen pole / Of blank Despair""",2005-03-07 00:00:00 UTC,Searching in HDIS (Poetry),•Not easy to categorize.,5628,"This is the sullen curse of surly souls,
To disbelieve the virtues which they feel not.
Ah, Stella! I'm a convert; thou hast tun'd
My rusting powers to the bright strain of joy:
My chill'd ideas quit their frozen pole
Of blank Despair, and, gently usher'd in
By grateful Rapture, meet thy genial warmth:
'Tis more than joy, or joy to an extreme;
Then teach my honest heart to feel more faint,
More moderate in her grateful change, or lend
Fair Elocution, who the Mimic aids,
To paint in brightest hues the unfelt joy.
","",2009-09-14 19:42:39 UTC
15071,"","",,"""In thy mild rhetoric dwells a social love / Beyond my wild conceptions, optics false!/ Thro' which I falsely judg'd of polish'd life""",2005-06-07 00:00:00 UTC,Searching in HDIS (Poetry),"",5628,"Stella, how strong thy gentle argument!
By the convinc'd, I scorn the iron lore,
The savage virtues of untutor'd minds:
In thy mild rhetoric dwells a social love
Beyond my wild conceptions, optics false!
Thro' which I falsely judg'd of polish'd life.","",2009-09-14 19:42:41 UTC