work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context
3596,"",Reading Ron Cooleys' website. <http://www.usask.ca/english/phoenix/cavendishpoems1.htm>.,2006-12-15 00:00:00 UTC,"Thoughts as a Pen do write upon the Braine;
The Letters which wise Thoughts do write, are plaine.
Fooles Scribble, Scrabble, and make many a Blot,
Which makes them Non-sense speak, they know not what.
Or Thoughts like Pencils draw still to the Life,
And Fancies mixt, as colours give delight.
Sad melancholy Thoughts are for Shadowes plac'd,
By which the lighter Fancies are more grac'd.
As through a dark, and watry Cloud, more bright,
The Sun breakes forth with his Resplendent Light.
Or like to Night's black Mantle, where each Star
Doth clearer seem, so lighter Fancies are.
Some like to Rain-bowes various Colours shew,
So round the Braine Fantastick Fancies grow. ",2007-04-26,9321,"","""Thoughts are for Shadowes plac'd, / By which the lighter Fancies are more graced. / As through a dark, and watry Cloud, more bright, / The Sun breakes forth with his Resplendent Light. / Or like to Night's black Mantle, where each Star / Doth clearer seem, so lighter Fancies are.""","",2012-07-05 13:52:23 UTC,I've included the entire poem
3822,"",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2005-05-31 00:00:00 UTC,"Peaceful is he, and most secure,
Whose heart, and actions all are pure;
How smooth and pleasant is his way.
Whilst Life's Meander slides away
If a fierce Thunderbolt do flie,
This Man can unconcerned lie;
Knows 'tis not levell'd at his head,
So neither noise, nor flash can dread:
Though a swift Whirlwind tear in sunder
Heav'n above him, or Earth under;
Though the Rocks on Heaps do tumble,
Or the World to Ashes crumble,
Though the stupendious Mountains from on high
Drop down, and in their humble Vallies lie;
Should the unruly Ocean roar,
And dash its Foam against the Shore;
He finds no Tempest in his Mind,
Fears no Billow, feels no Wind:
All is serene, and quiet there,
There's not one blast of troubled Air,
Old Stars may fall, or new ones blaze,
Yet none of these his Soul amaze;
Such is the man can smile at irksome death,
And with an easie sigh give up his breath.",2009-01-20,9843,"","""He finds no Tempest in his Mind, / Fears no Billow, feels no Wind: / All is serene, and quiet there.""","",2009-09-14 19:34:31 UTC,I've included the entire poem
3852,"",Reading. Text from EEBO. http://name.umdl.umich.edu/A27305,2005-10-09 00:00:00 UTC,"In this time the Prince, who was return'd from Hunting, went to visit his Imoinda, but found her gone; and not only so, but heard she had receiv'd the Royal Veil. This rais'd him to a Storm; and in his Madness, they had much ado to save him from laying violent Hands on himself. Force first prevail'd, and then Reason: They urg'd all to him, that might oppose his Rage; but nothing weigh'd so greatly with him as the King's Old Age uncapable of injuring him with Imoinda. He wou'd give way to that Hope, because it pleas'd him most, and flatter'd best his Heart. Yet this serv'd not altogether to make him cease his different Passions, which sometimes rag'd within him, and sometimes softned into Showers. 'Twas not enough to appease him, to tell him, his Grand-father was old, and cou'd not that way injure him, while he retain'd that awful Duty which the young Men are us'd there to pay to their grave Relations. He cou'd not be convinc'd he had no Cause to sigh and mourn for the Loss of a Mistress, he cou'd not with all his Strength and Courage retrieve. And he wou'd often cry, O my Friends! were she in wall'd Cities, or confin'd from me in Fortifications of the greatest Strength; did Inchantments or Monsters detain her from me, I wou'd venture through any Hazard to free her: Buthere, in the Arms of a feeble old Man, my Youth, my violent Love, my Trade
in Arms, and all my vast Desire of Glory, avail me nothing: Imoinda is as irrecoverably lost to me, as if she were snatch'd by the cold Arms of Death: Oh! she is never to be retriev'd. If I wou'd wait tedious Years, till Fate shou'd bow the old King to his Grave; even that wou'd not leave me Imoinda free; but still that Custom that makes it so vile a Crime for a Son to marry his Father's Wives or Mistresses, wou'd hinder my Happiness; unless I wou'd either ignobly set an ill President to my Successors, or abandon my Country, and fly with her to some unknown World, who never heard our Story.
(pp. 36-38)",,9897,"•See also Aphra Behn. Oroonoko and other Writings. Ed. Paul Salzman. Oxford: OUP, 1994.","""This rais'd him to a Storm; and in his Madness, they had much ado to save him from laying violent Hands on himself""","",2009-09-14 19:34:33 UTC,""
3852,"",Reading. Text from EEBO. http://name.umdl.umich.edu/A27305,2005-10-09 00:00:00 UTC,"In this time the Prince, who was return'd from Hunting, went to visit his Imoinda, but found her gone; and not only so, but heard she had receiv'd the Royal Veil. This rais'd him to a Storm; and in his Madness, they had much ado to save him from laying violent Hands on himself. Force first prevail'd, and then Reason: They urg'd all to him, that might oppose his Rage; but nothing weigh'd so greatly with him as the King's Old Age uncapable of injuring him with Imoinda. He wou'd give way to that Hope, because it pleas'd him most, and flatter'd best his Heart. Yet this serv'd not altogether to make him cease his different Passions, which sometimes rag'd within him, and sometimes softned into Showers. 'Twas not enough to appease him, to tell him, his Grand-father was old, and cou'd not that way injure him, while he retain'd that awful Duty which the young Men are us'd there to pay to their grave Relations. He cou'd not be convinc'd he had no Cause to sigh and mourn for the Loss of a Mistress, he cou'd not with all his Strength and Courage retrieve. And he wou'd often cry, O my Friends! were she in wall'd Cities, or confin'd from me in Fortifications of the greatest Strength; did Inchantments or Monsters detain her from me, I wou'd venture through any Hazard to free her: Buthere, in the Arms of a feeble old Man, my Youth, my violent Love, my Trade
in Arms, and all my vast Desire of Glory, avail me nothing: Imoinda is as irrecoverably lost to me, as if she were snatch'd by the cold Arms of Death: Oh! she is never to be retriev'd. If I wou'd wait tedious Years, till Fate shou'd bow the old King to his Grave; even that wou'd not leave me Imoinda free; but still that Custom that makes it so vile a Crime for a Son to marry his Father's Wives or Mistresses, wou'd hinder my Happiness; unless I wou'd either ignobly set an ill President to my Successors, or abandon my Country, and fly with her to some unknown World, who never heard our Story.
(pp. 36-38)",,9898,"•See also Aphra Behn. Oroonoko and other Writings. Ed. Paul Salzman. Oxford: OUP, 1994.","""Yet this serv'd not altogether to make him cease his different Passions, which sometimes rag'd within him, and sometimes softned into Showers""","",2009-09-14 19:34:33 UTC,""
3617,"",Reading,2010-01-12 19:17:34 UTC,"17. May be an effect and emanation from a holy Conscience; but conscience in itself may be either good or bad, or it may be good when the heart is not clean, as it is in all the worst men who actually sin against conscience, doing that which conscience forbids them. In these men the principles are holy, the instruction perfect, the law remaining, the perswasions uncancelled; but against all this torrent there is a whirlwind of passions, and filthy resolutions, and wilfulness, which corrupt the heart, while as yet the head is uncorrupted in the direct rules of conscience. But yet sometimes a clean conscience and a clean heart are the same; and a good conscience is taken for holiness, so S. Paul uses the word, holding faith and a good conscience, which some having put away have made shipwreck [GREEK], so Clemens Alexandrinus explicates the place, they have by infidelity polluted their divine and holy conscience: but S. Paul seems to argue
otherwise, and that they, laying aside a good conscience, fell into infidelity ; their hearts and conscience were first corrupted, and then they turned heretics. But this sense of a good conscience is that which in Mystic Divinity is more properly handled, in which sense also it is sometimes used in
law. Idem est conscientiaquod vir bonus intrinsece, said
Ungarellus out of Baldus; and from thence Aretine*
gathered this conclusion, that if any thing be committed to
the conscience of any one, they must stand to his determination, & ab ea appellari non potest ; there lies no appeal, quia vir bonus, pro quo sumitur conscientia, non potest mentiri et falsum dicere vel judicare. A good man, for whom the word conscience is used, cannot lye, or give a false judgment or testimony: of this sort of conscience it is said by Ben Sirach, bonam substantiam habet, cui non est peccatum in conscientia. It is a mans wealth to have no sin in our conscience. But in our present and future discourses, the word conscience is understood in the Philosophical sence, not in the Mystical, that is, not for the conscience as it is invested with the accidents of good or bad, but as it abstracts
from both, but is capable of either.
(p. 5)",,17667,"","""In these men the principles are holy, the instruction perfect, the law remaining, the perswasions uncancelled; but against all this torrent there is a whirlwind of passions, and filthy resolutions, and wilfulness, which corrupt the heart, while as yet the head is uncorrupted in the direct rules of conscience.""","",2010-01-12 19:17:34 UTC,"Book I, Chapter I"
6667,"","Reading Keith Thomas' ""Cases of Conscience in Seventeenth-Century England."" In Public Duty and Private Conscience, edited by P. Slack J. Morill, and D. Woolf, 29-56. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1993.",2010-01-21 20:12:58 UTC,"I see it a bad exchange to wound a mans owne Conscience, thereby to salve State sores; to calme the stormes of popular discontents, by stirring up a tempest in a mans owne bosome.
(p. 6)
",,17679,"","""I see it a bad exchange to wound a mans owne Conscience, thereby to salve State sores; to calme the stormes of popular discontents, by stirring up a tempest in a mans owne bosome.""","",2010-01-21 20:12:58 UTC,2. Upon the Earle of Straffords death.
6689,"",Reading,2010-03-30 21:53:44 UTC,"1. In the next place we may rank Meekness as a necessary feminine Vertu; this even nature seems to teach, which abhors monstrosities and disproportions, and therefore having allotted to women a more smooth and soft composition of body, infers thereby her intention, that the mind should correspond with it. For tho the adulterations of art, can represent in the same Face beauty in one position, and deformity in another, yet nature is more sincere, and never meant a serene and clear forhead, should be the frontispiece to a cloudy tempestuous heart. 'Tis therefore to be wisht they would take the admonition, and whilst they consult their glasses, whether to applaud or improve their outward form, they would cast one look inwards, and examine what symmetry is there held with a fair outside; whether any storm of passion darken and overcast their interior beauty, and use at least an equal dilligence to rescu that; as they would to clear their face from any stain or blemish.
(I.ii.1)",,17752,"",""" For tho the adulterations of art, can represent in the same Face beauty in one position, and deformity in another, yet nature is more sincere, and never meant a serene and clear forhead, should be the frontispiece to a cloudy tempestuous heart.""","",2010-03-30 21:53:44 UTC,Part I. SECT. II. Of Meekness
7097,"","Searching ""mind"" in Google Books",2011-09-20 16:31:06 UTC,"There is not so Disproportionate a Mixture in any Creature, as that is in Man, of Soul and Body. There is Intemperance, join'd with Divinity; Folly, with Severity; Sloth, with Activity; and Uncleanness, with Purity. But, a Good Sword is never the worse for an ill Scabbard. We are mov'd more by Imaginary Fears, than Truths; for Truth has a Certainty, and Foundation; but, in the other, we are expos'd to the Licence, and Conjecture of a distracted Mind; and our Enemies, are not more Imperious, than our Pleasures. We set our Hearts upon Transitory Things; as if they Themselves were Everlasting; or We, on the other side, to possess them for Ever. Why do we not rather advance our Thoughts to things that are Eternal, and contemplate the Heavenly Original of all Beings? Why do we not, by the Divinity of Reason, triumph over the Weaknesses of Flesh, and Blood? It is by Providence that the World is preserv'd; and not from any Virtue in the Matter of it; for the World is as Mortal as we are; only the Almighty Wisdom carries it safe through all the Motions of Corruption. And so by Prudence, Human Life it self may be prolong'd if we will but stint our selves in those Pleasures, that bring the greater part of us untimely to our End. Our Passions are nothing else but certain Disallowable Motions of the Mind; Sudden, and Eager; which, by Frequency, and Neglect, turn to a Disease; as a Distillation brings us first to a Cough, and then to a Phthisick. We are carry'd Up to the Heavens, and Down again into the Deep, by Turns; so long as we are govern'd by our Affections, and not by Virtue: Passion, and Reason, are a kind of Civil War within us; and as the one, or the other has Dominion, we are either Good, or Bad. So that it should be our Care, that the worst Mixture may not prevail. And they are link'd, like the Chain of Causes, and Effects, one to another. Betwixt violent Passion, and a Fluctuation, or Wambling of the Mind, there is such a Difference, as betwixt the Agitation of a Storm, and the Nauseous Sickness of a Calm. And they have all of them their Symptoms too, as well as our Bodily Distempers: They that are troubled with the Falling-Sickness, know when the Fit is a coming, by the Cold of the Extreme Parts; the Dazling of the Eyes; the Failing of the Memory; the Trembling of the Nerves, and the Giddiness of the Head: So that every Man knows his own Disease, and should provide against it. Anger, Love, Sadness, Fear, may be read in the Countenance; and so may the Virtues too. Fortitude makes the Eye Vigorous; Prudence makes it Intent; Reverence shews it self in Modesty; Joy, in Serenity; and Truth, in Openness, and Simplicity. There are sown the Seeds of Divine Things in Mortal Bodies. If the Mind be well Cultivated, the Fruit answers the Original; and, if not, all runs into Weeds. We are all of us Sick of Curable Diseases; And it costs us more to be Miserable, than would make us perfectly Happy. Consider the Peaceable state of Clemency, and the Turbulence of Anger; the Softness, and Quiet of Modesty, and the Restlessness of Lust. How cheap, and easie to us is the Service of Virtue, and how dear we pay for our Vices! The Sovereign Good of Man, is a Mind that subjects all things to it self; and is it self subject to nothing: His Pleasures are Modest, Severe, and Reserv'd; and rather the Sauce, or the Diversion of Life, than the Entertainment of it. It may be some Question, whether such a Man goes to Heaven, or Heaven comes to Him: For a good Man is Influenc'd, by God himself; and has a kind of Divinity within him. What if one Good Man Lives in Pleasure, and Plenty, and another in Want, and Misery? 'Tis no Virtue, to contemn Superfluities, but Necessities: And they are both of them Equally Good, though under several Circumstances, and in different Stations.
(pp. 474-476)",,19198,"","""Betwixt violent Passion, and a Fluctuation, or Wambling of the Mind, there is such a Difference, as betwixt the Agitation of a Storm, and the Nauseous Sickness of a Calm.""","",2011-09-20 16:31:06 UTC,Epistle XXII.
7528,"","",2013-07-11 14:38:28 UTC,"The craving Wife, the force of Magick tries,
And Philters for th' unable Husband buys:
The Potion works not on the part design'd,
But turns his Brain, and stupifies his Mind.
The sotted Moon-Calf gapes, and staring on,
Sees his own Business by another done:
A long Oblivion, a benumming Frost,
Constrains his Head; and Yesterday is lost:
Some nimbler Juice wou'd make him foam, and rave,
Like that Caesonia to her Caius gave:
Who, plucking from the Forehead of the Fole
His Mother's Love, infus'd it in the Bowl:
The boiling Blood ran hissing in his Veins,
Till the mad Vapour mounted to his Brains.
The Thund'rer was not half so much on Fire,
When Iuno's Girdle kindled his Desire.
What Woman will not use the Poys'ning Trade,
When Caesar's Wife the Precedent has made?
Let Agripina's Mushroom be forgot;
Giv'n to a Slav'ring, Old, unuseful Sot;
That only clos'd the driveling Dotard's Eyes;
And sent his Godhead downward to the Skies.
But this fierce Potion, calls for Fire and Sword;
Nor spares the Commons, when it strikes the Lord:
So many Mischiefs were in one combin'd;
So much one single Poys'ner cost Mankind.
(pp. 121-2, ll. 794-819)",,21638,"","""The craving Wife, the force of Magick tries, / And Philters for th' unable Husband buys: / The Potion works not on the part design'd, / But turns his Brain, and stupifies his Mind. / The sotted Moon-Calf gapes, and staring on, / Sees his own Business by another done: / A long Oblivion, a benumming Frost, / Constrains his Head; and Yesterday is lost.""","",2013-07-11 14:38:28 UTC,Browsing in EEBO
7537,"",Browsing in EEBO,2013-07-11 15:09:47 UTC,"PERSIUS.
Tis not, indeed, my Talent to engage
In lofty Trifles, or to swell my Page
With Wind and Noise; but freely to impart,
As to a Friend, the Secrets of my heart:
And, in familiar Speech, to let thee know
How much I love thee; and how much I owe.
Knock on my Heart; for thou hast skill to find
If it sound solid, or be fill'd with Wind;
And, thro the veil of words, thou view'st the naked Mind.
For this a hundred Voices I desire;
To tell thee what an hundred Tongues wou'd tire;
Yet never cou'd be worthily exprest,
How deeply thou art seated in my Breast.
(p. 61, ll. 27-39)",,21651,"","""Knock on my Heart; for thou hast skill to find / If it sound solid, or be fill'd with Wind; / And, thro the veil of words, thou view'st the naked Mind.""","",2013-07-11 15:09:47 UTC,""