comments,context,dictionary,theme,text,metaphor,updated_at,provenance,reviewed_on,created_at,work_id,id
•Appears Twice: Also in Ogle's Canterbury Tales (1741). See also entry under Ogle. ,"","","","""My love! nay rather my damnation thou,""
Said he: ""nor am I bound to keep my vow;
The fiend thy sire has sent thee from below,
Else how couldst thou my secret sorrows know?
Avaunt, old witch, for I renounce thy bed:
The queen may take the forfeit of my head,
Ere any of my race so foul a crone shall wed.""
Both heard, the judge pronounced against the knight;
So was he married in his own despite:
And all day after hid him as an owl,
Not able to sustain a sight so foul.
Perhaps the reader thinks I do him wrong,
To pass the marriage-feast, and nuptial song:
Mirth there was none, the man was à-la-mort,
And little courage had to make his court.
To bed they went, the bridegroom and the bride.
Was never such an ill-paired couple tied!
Restless he tossed, and tumbled to and fro,
And rolled, and wriggled further off, for woe.
The good old wife lay smiling by his side,
And caught him in her quivering arms, and cried,--
""When you my ravished predecessor saw,
You were not then become this man of straw;
Had you been such, you might have scaped the law.
Is this the custom of King Arthur's court?
Are all Round-table Knights of such a sort?
Remember I am she who saved your life,
Your loving, lawful, and complying wife:
Not thus you swore in your unhappy hour,
Nor I for this return employed my power.
In time of need I was your faithful friend;
Nor did I since, nor ever will offend.
Believe me, my loved lord, 'tis much unkind;
What fury has possessed your altered mind?
Thus on my wedding-night--without pretence--
Come turn this way, or tell me my offence.
If not your wife, let reason's rule persuade;
Name but my fault, amends shall soon be made.""
(pp. 810-11, ll. 334-364)","""If not your wife, let reason's rule persuade / Name but my fault, amends shall soon be made.""",2009-09-14 19:33:34 UTC,"Searching ""rule"" and ""reason"" in HDIS",2008-09-24,2004-06-10 00:00:00 UTC,3214,8444
"John Dryden. Ed. Keith Walker Oxford and New York: Oxford UP, 1987.","","","","""The Cause and Spring of motion, from above,
Hung down on earth, the golden chain of Love;
Great was the effect, and high was his intent,
When peace among the jarring seeds he sent:
Fire, flood, and earth, and air, by this were bound,
And love, the common link, the new creation crowned.
The chain still holds; for, though the forms decay,
Eternal matter never wears away:
The same first Mover certain bounds has placed,
How long those perishable forms shall last;
Nor can they last beyond the time assigned
By that all-seeing, and all-making Mind:
Shorten their hours they may; for will is free;
But never pass the appointed destiny.
So men oppressed, when weary of their breath,
Throw off the burden, and suborn their death.
Then, since those forms begin, and have their end,
On some unaltered cause they sure depend:
Parts of the whole are we; but God the whole;
Who gives us life, and animating soul.
For nature cannot from a part derive
That being, which the whole can only give:
He, perfect, stable; but imperfect we,
Subject to change, and different in degree;
Plants, beasts, and man; and, as our organs are,
We, more or less, of his perfection share.
But, by a long descent, the ethereal fire
Corrupts; and forms, the mortal part, expire.
As he withdraws his virtue, so they pass,
And the same matter makes another mass.
This law the Omniscient Power was pleased to give,
That every kind should by succession live;
That individuals die, his will ordains;
The propagated species still remains.
The monarch oak, the patriarch of the trees,
Shoots rising up, and spreads by slow degrees;
Three centuries he grows, and three he stays,
Supreme in state, and in three more decays:
So wears the paving pebble in the street,
And towns and towers their fatal periods meet
So rivers, rapid once, now naked lie,
Forsaken of their springs, and leave their channels dry:
So man, at first a drop, dilates with heat,
Then formed, the little heart begins to beat;
Secret he feeds, unknowing in the cell;
At length, for hatching ripe, he breaks the shell,
And struggles into breath, and cries for aid;
Then, helpless, in his mother's lap is laid.
He creeps, he walks, and, issuing into man,
Grudges their life, from whence his own began;
Retchless of laws, affects to rule alone,
Anxious to reign, and restless on the throne;
First vegetive, then feels, and reasons last;
Rich of three souls, and lives all three to waste.
Some thus, but thousands more in flower of age;
For few arrive to run the latter stage.
Sunk in the first, in battle some are slain,
And others whelmed beneath the stormy main.
What makes all this, but Jupiter the king,
At whose command we perish, and we spring?
Then 'tis our best, since thus ordained to die,
To make a virtue of necessity;
Take what he gives, since to rebel is vain;
The bad grows better, which we well sustain;
And could we choose the time, and choose aright,
'Tis best to die, our honour at the height.
When we have done our ancestors no shame,
But served our friends, and well secured our fame;
Then should we wish our happy life to close,
And leave no more for fortune to dispose.
So should we make our death a glad relief
From future shame, from sickness, and from grief;
Enjoying, while we live, the present hour,
And dying in our excellence and flower.
Then round our deathbed every friend should run,
And joy us of our conquest early won;
While the malicious world, with envious tears,
Should grudge our happy end, and wish it theirs.
Since then our Arcite is with honour dead,
Why should we mourn, that he so soon is freed,
Or call untimely, what the gods decreed?
With grief as just, a friend may be deplored,
From a foul prison to free air restored.
Ought he to thank his kinsman or his wife,
Could tears recall him into wretched life?
Their sorrow hurts themselves; on him is lost;
And, worse than both, offends his happy ghost.
What then remains, but, after past annoy,
To take the good vicissitude of joy;
To thank the gracious gods for what they give,
Possess our souls, and while we live, to live?
Ordain we then two sorrows to combine,
And in one point the extremes of grief to join;
That thence resulting joy may be renewed,
As jarring notes in harmony conclude.
Then I propose, that Palamon shall be
In marriage joined with beauteous Emily;
For which already I have gained the assent
Of my free people in full parliament.
Long love to her has borne the faithful knight,
And well deserved, had fortune done him right:
'Tis time to mend her fault, since Emily,
By Arcite's death, from former vows is free;
If you, fair sister, ratify the accord,
And take him for your husband and your lord.
'Tis no dishonour to confer your grace
On one descended from a royal race;
And were he less, yet years of service past,
From grateful souls, exact reward at last.
Pity is heaven's and yours; nor can she find
A throne so soft as in a woman's mind.""
(pp. 631-4, ll. 1024-1134","One cannot find ""A throne so soft as in a woman's mind""",2009-09-14 19:34:52 UTC,"Searching ""throne"" and ""mind"" in HDIS (Poetry)",,2004-07-07 00:00:00 UTC,3957,10286
•I've included Thrice: Throne and Revolution and War.,"",Throne,"","Whoe'er he was, he does my fancy move,
Who painted first the little God of Love.
Plainly he saw the senseless Lovers snare,
What solid good they lose, for empty care;
Thence did he Justly windy Wings impart,
And made the God fly with a humane Heart.
By Fortune's waves he knew us wildly tost,
While, by each dash, we may be wreck'd, and lost.
Justly he knew what the old Poets sung,
That from the Seas Love's Beauteous Mother sprung.
E'er since which time, unhappy Lovers see,
Their Passion ne'er can be from Tempests free.
It Ebbs and Flows, unfixt, not long the same,
A rowling Ocean of tumultuous Flame.
He feign'd him blind, with true design, to show
That every Lover, while he Loves, is so.
Justly indeed his Darts were bearded found,
For, what they hurt, can never be made sound;
And 'ere we see him, he is sure to wound.
My Breast his Arrows, and his Image boast,
But sure his Wings, with which he flies, are lost.
My Heart's his Throne, yet Rebel Passions Jar,
Which Fire my Veins, and thro' my Blood make War.
Why Cruel Love, should you the Tyrant Play?
By what pretence can you demand your sway?
But you have Pow'r, and I must still obey.
When I am gone, who shall your praises sing?
And my Light Muse can weighty glories bring.
","""My Heart's his Throne, yet Rebel Passions Jar, / Which Fire my Veins, and thro' my Blood make War.""",2013-09-09 18:15:47 UTC,"Foudn again searching ""passion"" and ""throne"" in HDIS (Poetry)",,2004-06-14 00:00:00 UTC,3958,10289
•Previous line describes self-conquering.,I've included the entire poem,Empire,"","Before Thee there the ready Painter stands,
Inspire his Fancy, and inspire his Hands.
Thou Nassaw's Glories to the Artist show,
So shall he paint, that all the Draught may know,
Nassaw, who seems Immortal, shall be so.
Paint him Triumphant ore the peaceful Ball,
And at his Feet let Europe's Scepters fall.
Paint him Instructing heroes in the Field,
Paint him at once War's Thunderbolt and Sheild.
Paint him unmov'd in Dangers and in Blood,
Yet paint him Mild, and mercifully good.
Behind this Mars let fierce Bellona stand,
But paint Astræa smiling in his Hand.
To him be every mortal Vertue given,
Paint him the Conqu'ror of the Earth--
Paint too the pious Hero Conqu'ring Heaven,
Beneath his Throne, let the Iust Pencil draw
That ill fam'd Chief, who kept the World in awe.
Fix on the Ground Macedo's weeping Eyes,
But fix the loftier Nassaw's on the Skies
A future World this Monarch holds in view,
By pious force he shall that World subdue.
Abroad, he leading, we our Foes or'ecome,
And o'er our Selves grow Conquerors at home.
Whilst our own Will our Passions shall restrain,
He gives us each an Empire where to Reign.
What Pen, what Pencil strikes the vast Extent?
The Godhead can't be shaddow'd out by Poetry or Paint.
","""Whilst our own Will our Passions shall restrain, / He [Nassaw] gives us each an Empire where to Reign.""",2014-08-18 14:53:02 UTC,"Searching ""empire"" and ""passion"" in HDIS (Poetry)",,2004-08-22 00:00:00 UTC,3961,10294
"","",Court,"","Yet no Injustice does in Job appear,
As you my Friends unkindly would infer,
Pure is my Prayer, my Heart within sincere.
If e'er a Man by my flagitious hand
Vext and Opprest, has perish'd from the Land,
Let not thy Womb, O Earth, his Blood conceal,
But to the Light my black Offence reveal;
That publique Shame and Pains may be my Fate,
Which on the heinous Malefactor wait.
Let God and Man their Bowels shut, when I
In deadly Torment for Compassion cry.
Conscience alone, my awful Judge within,
Does not acquit me of enormous Sin,
But God and all his sacred Angels, bear
Witness to this, and will my Justice clear.
From you my Friends, who my Distress deride,
I turn to Heav'n, let Heav'n my Cause decide.
If God his just Tribunal would ascend,
To hear how you accuse, and I defend;
If he, as Arbitrator, would preside,
And weigh the Reasons urg'd on either side;
From your Indictment he would me release,
And I, my Virtue clear'd, should dye in Peace.
And, O, that God would soon my Tryal hear,
And Judgment give before I disappear.
For when a few more fleeting days are past,
I in the Arms of Death shall lye embrac't.","""Conscience alone, my awful Judge within, / Does not acquit me of enormous Sin / But God and all his sacred Angels, bear / Witness to this, and will my Justice clear.""",2010-02-05 17:47:05 UTC,"Searching ""judge within"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2010-02-05,2004-08-26 00:00:00 UTC,3963,10296
"","",Court,""," He paus'd: and Job not answering, Elihu
Did thus th'important Argument pursue.
To th' uncorrupted Judge within thy Breast
Thy Conscience I appeal; will that attest
That thou believ'st what thou hast boldly said,
That Job does God in Righteousness exceed?
To any other meaning who can wrest
These Irreligious Words by thee exprest?
""Does ever God the least concernment show
""Whether I'm Just and Innocent, or no?
""What Profit shall I reap by being so?
I will a short, but a full answer give
To thee, and those that thus of God believe.
Then up to Heav'n cast thy admiring Eyes,
View the bright Orbs, and Clouds, and distant Skies.
High as they are, they're by th' Almighty's Throne
In height, as much as thou by them, outdone.
Therefore, O Job, the most atrocious Crime
Thou dar'st commit, can never injure him.
Nor can his perfect Happiness be less,
Should thou grown bold, and hard in Wickedness,
By multiply'd Affronts thy Hate of God express.
Nor can he e'er the least advantage reap,
Shouldst thou revere him, and his Precepts keep.","""To th' uncorrupted Judge within thy Breast / Thy Conscience I appeal; will that attest / That thou believ'st what thou hast boldly said, / That Job does God in Righteousness exceed?""",2010-02-05 17:49:19 UTC,"Searching ""judge within"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2010-02-05,2004-08-26 00:00:00 UTC,3963,10297
"","Vol. 2, Book 3, ""Letters of Love""
I've included the entire poem","","","Tho' Sense prevailing Checks a kind return,
Tho' Sense, cold sense, permits you not to burn,
Yet Sense can never bid Amasia scorn.
By Fate's decree, Love rages in the Blood;
A Passion cannot be by force withstood,
For I would hate Amasia, if I cou'd.
Can I at once mention thy Name, and hate?
Love Choaks that Word, for Love to me is fate.
Resentment now does with soft Fondness Jar,
Reason and Love wage an Eternal War;
Love Fights--Love Conquers still--
And my own Heart is his Triumphant Car.
In vain I call my Senses to my aid,
In vain Rebel, he will be still obey'd,
For I am soon by ev'ry Sense betray'd.
Now, I resolve thy Beauties to despise,
And look--but look alas! with longing Eyes.
Each pointed Glance, with haughty Courage Arm'd,
Looses its Edge, and at thy sight grows Charm'd.
In all I yield, and strait, ye Pow'rs Divine!
My Heart, and Soul, as well as Eyes, are thine.
Whene'er I touch thee, I transported grow,
Whene'r I touch, which but in Thought I do,
More soft thou seem'st--
Than downy Swans, or than the Fleecy Snow.
Thy Fragrant Breath--
More smelling Sweet than richest Perfumes blows,
Than Scents of Violets, or the blooming Rose.
To catch new Sweets, oft flying Zephirs stay,
Around thy Lips, and with thy Tresses play,
Then pleas'd, with Whistlings fly--
And on their Wings bear the dear spoils away.
In thee all Odours keep their Lov'd aboad,
One sigh of yours would Charm, or make, a God.
From place to place, tastless of Food, I rove,
Loathing all else--my only food is Love.
Musick, be dumb--what Musick can I hear?
Amasia's Voice can only Charm my Ear,
All's discord else--there's only Musick there.
Thy Ayres, at once, Fann, while they raise the Fire,
Thy Words beyond all others Songs inspire,
Charming the Poet more than his Apollo's lyre.
Seraphick strains from every Accent spring,
Sing not Amasia--no--
For I should grow Immortal, should you sing.
Whene'er you speak, fond of the Charming sound,
With the Lov'd Voice the Hills, and Vales rebound,
Scarce, scarce at last by repetition drown'd.
O had the Vocal Nymph such strains restor'd,
Had Eccho's Voice been such, Narcissus had ador'd.
Ravish'd like me, he had Condemn'd his choice,
And had not Burn'd--
For the Reflection of a Face, but Voice.","One may call his Senses to his aid, and ""In vain Rebel,"" but soon he is ""by ev'ry Sense betray'd""",2009-09-14 19:34:52 UTC,Searching in HDIS (Poetry),,2005-02-09 00:00:00 UTC,3968,10304
•REREAD. Interesting passage. Confuses interior and exterior. A metaphor of mind that is not in the mind!,"","","","A Cave there is wherein those Nymphs reside
Who all the Realms of Sense and Fancy guide;
Nay some affirm that in the deepest Cell
Imperial Reason's self does not disdain to dwell:
With Living Reed 'tis thatch'd and guarded round,
Which mov'd by Winds emit a Silver Sound:
Two Crystal Fountains near its Entrance play,
Wide scatt'ring Golden Streams which ne'er decay,
Two Labyrinths behind harmonious Sounds convey:
Chiefly, within, the Room of State is fam'd
Of rich Mosaick Work divinely fram'd:
Of small Extent to view, 'twill all things hide,
Heav'n's Azure Arch it self not half so wide:
Here all the Arts their sacred Mansion chuse,
Here dwells the Mother of the Heav'n-born Muse:
With wond'rous mystic Figures round 'tis wrought
Inlaid with Fancy, and anneal'd with Thought:
With more than humane Skill depicted here
The various Images of Things appear;
What Was, or Is, or labours yet to Be
Within the Womb of Dark Futurity,
May Stowage in this wondrous Storehouse find,
Yet leave unnumber'd empty Cells behind:
But ah! as fast they come, they fly too fast,
Not Life or Happiness are more in haste:
Only the First Great Mind himself can stay
The Fugitives, and at one Glance survey;
But those whom he disdains not to befriend,
Uncommon Souls, who nearest Heav'n ascend
Far more, at once, than others comprehend:
Whate'er within this sacred Hall you find,
Whate'er will lodge in your capacious Mind
Let Judgment sort, and skilful Method bind;
And as from these you draw your antient Store
Daily supply the Magazine with more.
Furnish'd with such Materials he'll excel
Who when he works is sure to work 'em well;
This Art alone, as Nature that bestows,
And in Perfection both, th' accomplish'd Verser knows.
Knows to persuade, and how to speak, and when;
The Rules of Life, and Manners knows and Men:
Those narrow Lines which Good and Ill divide;
And by what Balance Just and Right are try'd:
How Kindred-Things with Things are closely join'd;
How Bodies act, and by what Laws confin'd,
Supported, mov'd and rul'd by th' Universal Mind.
When the moist Kids or burning Sirius rise;
Through what ambiguous Ways Hyperion flies,
And marks our Upper or the Nether Skies.
He knows those Strings to touch with artful Hand
Which rule Mankind, and all the World command:
What moves the Soul, and every secret Cell
Where Pity, Love, and all the Passions dwell.
The Music of his Verse can Anger raise,
Which with a softer Stroak he smooths and lays:
Can Emulation, Terror, all excite,
Compress the Soul with Grief, or swell with vast Delight.
If this you can, your Care you'll well bestow,
And some new Milton or a Spencer grow;
If not, a Poet ne'er expect to be,
Content to Rime, like D---y or like me.","""Nay some affirm that in the deepest Cell / Imperial Reason's self does not disdain to dwell.""
",2013-11-13 05:10:37 UTC,Searching in HDIS (Poetry),,2005-08-16 00:00:00 UTC,3978,10320
•I've included twice: once in Government and once in Uncategorized.,"","","","The Passions still Predominant will Rule,
Ungovern'd, Rude, not Bred in Reason's School;
Our Understanding They with Darkness fill,
Cause strong Corruptions, and pervert the Will;
On These the Soul, as on some Flowing Tide,
Must sit, and on the raging Billows Ride,
Hurry'd away, for how can be withstood
Th' Impetuous Torrent of the boyling Blood?
Begon false Hopes, for all our Learning's Vain,
Can we be free, where These the Rule Maintain?
These are the Tools of Knowledge which we use;
The Spirits heated will strange Things produce;
Tell me who e'er the Passions cou'd Controul,
Or from the Body disengage the Soul;
Till this is done, our best Pursuits are vain
To conquer Truth and unmix'd Knowledge Gain.
Thro' all the bulky Volums of the Dead,
And thro' those Books that Modern Times have Bred.
With pain we Travel, as thro' moorish Ground,
Where scarce one useful Plant is ever found;
O'rerun with Errors which so thick appear,
Our Search proves vain, no spark of Truth is there.
(pp. 4-5)","""The Passions still predominant will rule, / Ungovern'd, rude, not bred in Reason's School.""",2011-07-18 18:20:54 UTC,"Searching ""rule"" and ""reason"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2011-07-18,2004-06-22 00:00:00 UTC,4353,11429
"","","","","For thus old Saws foretel, and Helenus
Anchises drooping Son enliven'd thus;
When Ilium now was in a sinking State;
And he was doubtful of his future Fate:
O Goddess born, with thy hard Fortune strive,
Troy never can be lost, and thou alive.
Thy Passage thou shalt free through Fire and Sword,
And Troy in Foreign Lands shall be restor'd.
In happier Fields a rising Town I see,
Greater than what e'er was, or is, or e'er shall be:
And Heav'n yet owes the: World a Race deriv'd from Thee.
Sages, and Chiefs of other Lineage born
The City shall extend, extended shall adorn:
But from Julus he must draw his Breath,
By whom thy Rome shall rule the conquer'd Earth:
Whom Heav'n will lend Mankind on Earth to reign,
And late require the precious Pledge again.
This Helenus to great AEneas told,
Which I retain, e'er since in other Mould:
My Soul was cloath'd; and now rejoice to view
My Country Walls rebuilt, and Troy reviv'd anew,
Rais'd by the fall: Decreed by Loss to Gain;
Enslav'd but to be free, and conquer'd but to reign.
(pp. 527-8; cf. pp. 831-2 in OUP)","""This Helenus to great AEneas told, / Which I retain, e'er since in other Mould: / My Soul was cloath'd; and now rejoice to view / My Country Walls rebuilt, and Troy reviv'd anew, / Rais'd by the fall: Decreed by Loss to Gain; / Enslav'd but to be free, and conquer'd but to reign.""",2014-05-26 20:23:27 UTC,Reading ,,2014-05-26 20:23:16 UTC,7163,23863