work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context
4090,"","Found searching ""fancy"" and ""guest"" in HDIS (Poetry); text from to ECCO-TCP",2006-03-14 00:00:00 UTC,"MADAM, There's nothing here that's free
From wearisome Anxiety:
And the whole Round of Mortal Joys
With short possession tires and cloys:
'Tis a dull Circle that we tread
Just from the Window to the Bed,
We rise to see and to be seen,
Gaze on the World a while, and then
We Yawn and Stretch to Sleep again.
But FANCY, that uneasie Guest
Still holds a Lodging in our Beast;
She finds or frames Vexations still,
Her self the greatest Plague we feel.
(pp. 189-190 in 1706 ed.)",2014-02-07,10536,"From Book II. Sacred to Virtue, Honour, and Friendship
Note variant in 1810: ""Varia"" for ""Madam""","""But FANCY, that unease Guest / Still holds a Lodging in our Beast; / She finds or frames Vexations still, / Her self the greatest Plague we feel.""",Inhabitants,2014-02-07 15:50:34 UTC,""
7682,"",Reading,2013-09-18 15:09:49 UTC,"Wit, like a hasty Flood, may over-run us,
And too much Sense has oftentimes undone us:
Wit is a Flux, a Looseness of the Brain,
And Sense-abstract has too much Pride to reign:
Wit-unconcoct is the Extream of Sloth,
And too much Sense is the Extream of both;
Abstracted-Wit 'Tis own'd is a Disease,
But Sense-abstracted has no Power to please:
For Sense, like Water, is but Wit condense,
And Wit, like Air, is rarify'd from Sense:
Meer Sense is sullen; stiff, and unpolite,
Meer Wit is Apoplectick, thin, and light:
Wit is a King without a Parliament,
And Sense a Democratick Government:
Wit, like the French, wher'e'er it reigns destroys,
And Sense advanc'd is apt to Tyrannize:
Wit without Sense is like the Laughing-Evil,
And Sense unmix'd with Fancy is the D---l.
Wit is a Standing-Army Government,
And Sense a sullen stubborn P---t:
Wit by its haste anticipates its Fate,
And so does Sense by being obstinate:
Wit without Sense in Verse is all but Farce,
Sense without Wit in Verse is all mine A---.
Wit, like the French, performs before it thinks,
And thoughtful Sense without Performance sinks;
Sense without Wit is Flegmatick and pale,
And is all Head, forsooth, without a Tail:
Wit without Sense is Cholerick and Red,
Has Tail enough indeed, but has no Head.
Wit, like the jangling Chimes, rings all in one,
Till Sense, the Artist, sets them into Tune:
Wit, like the Belly, if it be not fed,
Will starve the Members, and distract the Head.
Wit is the Fruitful Womb where Thoughts conceive,
Sense is the Vital Heat which Life and Form must give:
Wit is the Teeming Mother brings them forth,
Sense is the Active Father gives them Worth.
United: Wit and Sense, makes Science thrive,
Divided: neither Wit nor Sense can live;
For while the Parties eagerly contend,
The Mortal Strife must in their mutual Ruin end.
(pp. 165-7, ll. 353-394)",,22803,"","""Wit is the Fruitful Womb where Thoughts conceive, / Sense is the Vital Heat which Life and Form must give: / Wit is the Teeming Mother brings them forth, /
Sense is the Active Father gives them Worth.""",Inhabitants,2013-09-18 15:12:10 UTC,""