text,updated_at,metaphor,created_at,context,theme,reviewed_on,dictionary,comments,provenance,id,work_id
"O that my Mind were cent'red where it ought!
Entirely freed from all distracting Thought:
Vain wandring Thoughts, that crowd within my Breast
Do oft obstruct my Soul from Solid Rest;
And, like to vagrant Clouds, obscure the Mind
Which should to serious watching be inclin'd:
Ah! Rise thou Sun of Righteousness, thy Light
Can soon dispel the Gloominess of Night:
Appear, appear, let thy Victorious Ray,
And long'd-for Presence, still renew the Day;
Whereby my slumb'ring Eyes may walk and see
The Dawning Morning of Felicity,
Still more and more break forth to perfect Day,
Whose Heav'nly Light guides in the Blessed Way,
That leads to thy renowned Holy Hill;
Where true Obedience to thy Sacred Will
Makes glad the Hearts of thy Redeemed Ones,
Who know the Comfort of Adopted Sons;
And can sing Praises to that Gracious Hand,
Which rais'd 'em up, and taught 'em how to stand,
To walk and run the pleasant Paths of Peace,
Rejoycing in true Joys that never cease.",2013-06-04 16:07:02 UTC,"""Vain wandring Thoughts, that crowd within my Breast / Do oft obstruct my Soul from Solid Rest; / like to vagrant Clouds, obscure the Mind / Which should to serious watching be inclin'd.""",2006-03-07 00:00:00 UTC,I've included the entire poem,"",2013-06-04,Inhabitants,"",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),10387,4004
"How soft the first ideas prove,
Which wander through our minds!
How full of joys, how free the love
Which does that early season move,
As flowers the western winds!
Our sighs are then but vernal air,
But April-drops our tears,
Which swiftly passing, all grows fair,
Whilst beauty compensates our care,
And youth each vapour clears
(ll. 16-25, p. 9)",2013-06-04 16:09:01 UTC,"""How soft the first ideas prove, / Which wander through our minds!""",2009-09-14 19:35:05 UTC,"","",2003-10-22,Inhabitants,"•The poem becomes darker after these stanzas: thorns, winter, and then (albeit ""gladly sinking to"") rest.
•I am now including personifications in greater earnest (10/22/2003)",Reading,10558,4102
"Thus far, our slow Imagination goes:
Wou'd the more skill'd THEANOR his disclose;
Expand the Scene, and open to our Sight
What to his nicer Judgment gives Delight;
Whose soaring Mind do's to Perfections climb,
Nor owns a Relish, but for Things sublime:
Then, wou'd the Piece fresh Beauties still present,
Nor Length of Time wou'd leave the Eye content:
As Moments, Hours; as Hours the Days wou'd seem,
Observing here, taught to observe by HIM.
(p. 72)",2014-07-02 15:20:49 UTC,"""Thus far, our slow Imagination goes: / Wou'd the more skill'd THEANOR his disclose; / Expand the Scene, and open to our Sight / What to his nicer Judgment gives Delight; / Whose soaring Mind do's to Perfections climb, / Nor owns a Relish, but for Things sublime.""",2014-07-02 15:20:49 UTC,"","",,"","",Searching in ECCO-TCP,24121,7953
"But why these single Griefs shou'd I expose?
The World no Mirth, no War, no Bus'ness knows,
But, hush'd with Sorrow, stands, to favour thy Repose.
Ev'n I my boasted Title now resign,
Not Ammon's Son, nor born of Race Divine,
But Mortal all, oppress'd with restless Fears,
Wild with my Cares, and Womanish in Tears.
Tho' Tears, before, I for old Clytus shed,
And wept more Drops, than the old Hero bled;
Ev'n now, methinks, I see him on the Ground,
Now my dire Arms the wretched Corpse sur|round,
Now the fled Soul I wooe, now rave upon the Wound.
Yet He, for whom this mighty Grief did spring,
Not Alexander valu'd, but the King.
Then think, how much that Passion must tran|scend,
Which not a Subject raises but a Friend;
An equal Partner in the vanquish'd Earth,
A Brother, not impos'd upon my Birth,
Too weak a Tye unequal Thoughts to bind,
But by the gen'rous Motions of the Mind.
(pp. 100-101)",2014-07-02 15:33:54 UTC,"""An equal Partner in the vanquish'd Earth, / A Brother, not impos'd upon my Birth, / Too weak a Tye unequal Thoughts to bind, / But by the gen'rous Motions of the Mind.""",2014-07-02 15:33:54 UTC,"","",,Fetters,"",Searching in ECCO-TCP,24127,7955
"How soft the first Ideas prove,
Which wander through our Minds!
How full the Joys, how free the Love,
Which do's that early Season move;
As Flow'rs the Western Winds!
(p. 260)",2014-07-02 15:36:01 UTC,""How soft the first Ideas prove, / Which wander through our Minds!""",2014-07-02 15:36:01 UTC,"","",,"","",Searching in ECCO-TCP,24128,7956
"Away the Skilful Doctor comes
Of Recipes and Med'cines full,
To check the giddy Whirl of Nature's Fires,
If so th' unruly Case requires;
Or with his Cobweb-cleansing Brooms
To sweep and clear the over-crouded Scull,
If settl'd Spirits flag, and make the Patient dull.
But asking what the Symptoms were,
That made 'em think he was so bad?
The Man indeed, they cry'd, is wond'rous Mad
You, at this Distance, may behold him there
Beneath that Tree in open Air,
Surrounded with the Engines of his Fate,
The Gimcracks of a broken Pate.
Those Hoops a Sphere he calls,
That Ball the Earth;
And when into his raving Fit he falls,
'Twou'd move at once your Pity, and your Mirth,
To hear him, as you will do soon,
Declaring, there's a Kingdom in the Moon;
And that each Star, for ought he knows,
May some Inhabitants enclose:
Philosophers, he says, may there abound,
Such Jugglers as himself be in them found;
Which if there be, the World may well turn round;
At least to those, whose Whimsies are so strange,
That, whilst they're fixt to one peculiar Place,
Pretend to measure far extended Space,
And 'mongst the Planets range.
Behold him now contemplating that Head,
From which long-since both Flesh, and Brains are fled;
Questioning, if that empty, hollow Bowl
Did not ere while contain the Human Soul:
Then starts a Doubt, if 'twere not to the Heart
That Nature rather did that Gift impart.
Good Sir, employ the utmost of your Skill,
To make him Wiser, tho' against his Will;
Who thinks, that he already All exceeds,
And laughs at our most solemn Words and Deeds:
Tho' once amongst us he wou'd try a Cause,
And Bus'ness of the Town discuss,
Knowing, as well as one of us,
The Price of Corn, and standing Market-Laws;
Wou'd bear an Office in his Turn,
For which good Purposes all Men were born;
Not to be making Circles in the Sand,
And scaling Heav'n, till they have sold their Land.
Or, when unstock'd below their Pasture lies,
To find out Bulls and Rams, amidst the Skies.
From these Mistakes his Madness we conclude;
And hearing, you was with much Skill endu'd,
Your Aid we sought. Hippocrates amaz'd,
Now on the Sage, now on the Rabble gaz'd;
And whilst he needless finds his artful Rules,
Pities a Man of Sense, judg'd by a Croud of Fools
Then how can we with their Opinions join,
Who, to promote some Int'rest, wou'd define
The Peoples Voice to be the Voice Divine?
(pp. 286-8)",2014-07-02 15:40:42 UTC,"""Away the Skilful Doctor comes / Of Recipes and Med'cines full, / To check the giddy Whirl of Nature's Fires, / If so th' unruly Case requires; / Or with his Cobweb-cleansing Brooms / To sweep and clear the over-crouded Scull, / If settl'd Spirits flag, and make the Patient dull.""",2014-07-02 15:40:18 UTC,"","",,Rooms,"",Searching in ECCO-TCP,24130,7957