text,updated_at,metaphor,created_at,context,theme,reviewed_on,dictionary,comments,provenance,id,work_id
"It is the lot of man:--the best oft mourn,
As sad they journey through this cloudy bourne:
If conscious Genius stamp their chosen breast,
And on the forehead show her seal impressed,
Perhaps they mourn, in bleak Misfortune's shade,
Their age and cares with penury repaid;
Their errors deeply scanned, their worth forgot,
Or marked by hard injustice with a blot.
If high they soar, and keep their distant way,
And spread their ample pinions to the day,
Malignant Faction hears with hate their name,
And all her tongues are busy with their fame.
",2013-09-09 18:42:18 UTC,"""If conscious Genius stamp their chosen breast, / And on the forehead show her seal impressed.""",2005-04-11 00:00:00 UTC,"",Physiognomy,,Impressions,"","Searching ""stamp"" and ""breast"" in HDIS (Poetry); Found again ""seal""",15259,5725
"C------e, whom providence hath placed
In the rich realms of polished taste,
Where judgment penetrates to find
The treasures of the unwrought mind,
Where conversation's ardent spirit
Refines from dross the ore of merit,
Where emulation aids the flame
And stamps the sterling bust of fame:
Can you, accustomed to behold
The purest intellectual gold,
Where genius sheds its living rays,
Bright as the sunny diamonds blaze,
Like idle virtuouso deign
To pick up pebbles from the plain?
Pleased if the worthless flints pretend
Fantastic characters to blend;
These in your cabinet insert,
And real excellence desert?
(ll. 1-18, p. 382 in Lonsdale; cf. p. 115-6 in 1791 ed.)",2014-02-22 04:59:37 UTC,"""In the rich realms of polished taste, / Where judgment penetrates to find / The treasures of the unwrought mind, / Where conversation's ardent spirit / Refines from dross the ore of merit, / Where emulation aids the flame / And stamps the sterling bust of fame.""",2003-07-28 00:00:00 UTC,"","",,Impressions and Metal,"•The poet asks Mrs C----e to suppose her a pebble.
•Rich verses. I've included four times: Treasure, Dross and Ore, Sterling, Stamp — now 5 times",Reading,15305,5746
"For, vainly think not, tho' the classic school
Of eloquence hath charm'd thy tranced hours,
That, there, the just--the appropriate model claims
Thine imitative labours. Unconstrain'd,
From equity's intrinsic source, (to all
Perspicuous), and the heart's decisions stamp'd
By Nature's seal, and man's primæval laws,
The immortal champions of the forum drew
Their more persuasive numbers. Short their code,
And simple; wedded to no toil austere;
Nor asking many a lustrum, to devote
The midnight lamp to musing. To combine
The quick varieties of thought; to snatch
From elocution all the heightening grace
Of diction; and amuse the million's eye
By each external impulse; this their boast,
This was their aim. No deep immuring pile
(The science of innumerous tomes) opprest
The mental strength elastic; nor perplex'd
By facts from mazy records, the free flow
Of speech, that never hesitating ran
Thro' easy vein. And while (the rare result
Of letter'd art) the precious volume gave
Its treasures to the few--perhaps no more
Accessible, and barr'd from vulgar gaze;
They bade retentive memory on their mind
Impress each image, in distinctive lines
That mock'd erasure. Hence the pleader, bold
In vigorous thought, and trusting to those powers
Which knew no ready refuge in the means
Of foreign aid, unlock'd with nature's key
The secret springs that agitate the soul!",2011-11-24 19:50:06 UTC,"""They bade retentive memory on their mind / Impress each image, in distinctive lines / That mock'd erasure.""",2005-05-11 00:00:00 UTC,"","",2011-11-24,"","","Searching ""mind"" and ""line"" in HDIS (Poetry)",15441,5787
"Far other notions of pathetic speech
The speakers of the Roman senate form'd;
Who ne'er essay'd to steal into the heart,
By painting to the feelings. 'Twas not theirs
To touch by imagery, but to move
By sympathetic strokes--to ope the effect
Of each impression on their own warm mind;
Not shew the mental portraiture itself,
By gradual art, thro' fancy's calmer light.
Pure passion dwells not on description's hues;
But ever lives, (and trembles, as it lives),
In indistinctest energies--a look,
A tone, a gesture! Hence, the speaker's soul
Enkindled, spreads its own contagious warmth.
'Tis thus the uncultur'd know the affection's force,
Bias'd by nature to admire! to shake
With agony, with rapture! circumscrib'd
By narrow bounds; nor shap'd to scrutinize
The ideas, whose obscure effect they feel.",2009-09-14 19:43:40 UTC,"The Roman senators moved the mind by sympathetic strokes and oped ""the effect of each impression on their own warm mind""",2005-05-16 00:00:00 UTC,"","",,Impression,"","Searching ""mind"" and ""impression"" in HDIS (Poetry)",15442,5787
"They did; for blasted in the barren shade,
Here, all too soon, the buds of science fade:
Sad ocean's genius, in untimely hour,
Withers the bloom of every springing flower.
Here fancy droops, while sullen cloud and storm
The generous climate of the soul deform.
Then if, among the wandering, naval train,
One stripling, exil'd from th'Aonian plain,
Had 'ere, entranc'd in fancy's soothing dream,
Approach'd to taste the sweet Castalian stream,
(Since those salubrious streams, with power divine,
To purer sense the attemper'd soul refine)
His heart with liberal commerce here unblest,
Alien to joy! sincerer grief possess'd.
Yet on the youthful mind th' impression cast
Of ancient glory shall for ever last.
There all unquench'd by cruel fortune's ire,
It glows with unextinguishable fire.",2009-09-14 19:44:08 UTC,"""Yet on the youthful mind th' impression cast / Of ancient glory shall for ever last.""",2005-05-15 00:00:00 UTC,"","",,Impression,"","Searching ""mind"" and ""impression"" in HDIS (Poetry)",15622,5881
"Pervious to every beam, transparent Glass
Gives to the eye, all objects as they pass:
So the clear Soul, when justice claims her due,
Or honour calls,--sets all within, to view.
The Diamond's piercing edge must Glass divide,
It's polish'd surface mocks all power beside:
So Spirits, which no base subservience own,
Pay homage to Superior Worth alone.
No drug, nor juice of all the acid tribe,
Can move the Tints, which Glassy Pores imbibe;
So no mean prejudice, no bribes, nor art,
Efface th' Impressions of an Upright Heart.",2013-11-01 21:23:04 UTC,"""No drug, nor juice of all the acid tribe, / Can move the Tints, which Glassy Pores imbibe; / So no mean prejudice, no bribes, nor art, / Efface th' Impressions of an Upright Heart.""",2005-05-16 00:00:00 UTC,Verses on Occasional Subjects,Glassy Essence,,Impression,"•INTEREST. Occasional subjects are what Swift makes fun of in Tritical Essay. Should look to see how many of these offer meditation and metaphors. REVISIT and Read entire poem.
• This is a weird metaphor… Washing the mirror? ","Searching ""impression"" and ""heart"" in HDIS (Poetry)",15624,5882
"Graceful of form, by nature taught to please,
Of pow'r to melt the female breast with ease.
To her Palemon told his tender tale,
Soft as the voice of summer's evening gale.
O'erjoy'd, he saw her lovely eyes relent;
The blushing maiden smil'd with sweet consent.
Oft' in the mazes of a neighbouring grove,
Unheard, they breath'd alternate vows of love:
By fond society their passion grew,
Like the young blossom fed with vernal dew.
In evil hour the officious tongue of Fame
Betray'd the secret of their mutual flame.
With grief and anger struggling in his breast,
Palemon's father heard the tale confest.
Long had he listen'd with suspicious ear,
And learnt, sagacious, this event to fear.
Too well, fair youth! thy lib'ral heart he knew;
A heart to Nature's warm impressions true!
Full oft' his wisdom strove, with fruitless toil,
With av'rice to pollute that generous soil:
That soil, impregnated with nobler seed,
Refus'd the culture of so rank a weed.
Elate with wealth, in active commerce won,
And basking in the smile of fortune's sun,
With scorn the parent ey'd the lowly shade
That veil'd the beauties of this charming maid.
Indignant he rebuk'd th' enamour'd boy,
The flatt'ring promise of his future joy!
He sooth'd and menac'd, anxious to reclaim
This hopeless passion, or divert its aim:
Oft' led the youth where circling joys delight
The ravish'd sense, or beauty charms the sight.
With all her powers enchanting Music fail'd,
And Pleasure's syren voice no more prevail'd.
The merchant, kindling then with proud disdain,
In look and voice assum'd an harsher strain:
In absence now his only hope remain'd;
And such the stern decree his will ordain'd.
Deep anguish, while Palemon heard his doom,
Drew o'er his lovely face a sadd'ning gloom.
In vain with bitter sorrow he repin'd,
No tender pity touch'd that sordid mind;
To thee, brave Albert, was the charge consign'd,
The stately ship, forsaking England's shore,
To regions far remote Palemon bore.
Incapable of change, th' unhappy youth
Still lov'd fair Anna with eternal truth:
From clime to clime an exile doom'd to roam,
His heart still panted for its secret home.",2009-09-14 19:44:09 UTC,"""Too well, fair youth! thy lib'ral heart he knew; / A heart to Nature's warm impressions true!""",2005-05-15 00:00:00 UTC,"","",,Impression,"","Searching ""heart"" and ""impression"" in HDIS (Poetry)",15626,5881
"These feeble sounds
Give not my soul's rich meaning; or my thought
Rises too boldly o'er the human line
Of alphabets (misused). Why should I wish
For words to form a picture for the world
Too rare? O world! what hast thou in thy sounds
So dear as silent memory when she leads
The shade of the departed? Ask despair
What renovation is, when friendship bends
To kiss her tears away;--but ask her eyes;
The pleasing anguish dwells not on her tongue.
Will friendship stay, when love and virtue fly?
Sooner Leviathan shall pierce the skies,
Roll 'mid the burning chamber of the sun,
And hate the chrystal caverns in the deep!
""Folly"" could ne'er o'ertake me. Oft I verge,
When warm'd by fancy, to the farthest bound
My sense of words can bear; but at the extreme
Contemn the sense that chastity throws off.--
""Folly!"" Good heaven! have I not climb'd an height
So frightful, e'en from comfort so remote,
That had my judgment reel'd, my foot forgot
Its strenuous print, my inexperienced eye
The wondrous point in view; or my firm soul,
Made early stubborn, her exalted pride,
Though of external poor; the stagnant lake
Of vice beneath, than Cocytus more foul,
Had oped its wave to swallow me, and hide
My frame for ever. This I saw: the year
Ne'er rip'd the corn, or strew'd the yellow leaf,
But some too feeble maid, who in the morn
Ascended with me, lost her hold and fell;
Leaving the glorious plaudit of the wise
To rough laborious spirits. I attained
With wretchedness this summit; hence, look down
On the laps'd ages, towers, and sleeping kings,
Whose heads repose 'mid monarchies engulph'd,
With temples, oracles, long whisp'ring fanes,
Thro' which the mystic meaning aw'd the crowd,
And stoop'd the public spirit to its lore:
There lie vast amphitheatres, where sat
The monarch with his thousands, to behold
How beasts of prey could tear the human heart,
Rich with some lov'd impression.--O forbear,
My muse! turn from the vision, lest thou wake
Emotion, and compare that heart with mine--
There gentle Petrarch sleeps; mild victim long
To that serene despair, which once imbib'd
The soul grows fond of, and withdraws, to give
Her tints of sympathy, ideal grace,
Languishing sentiment, and faithful tear,
To the wild woodland: there she feels enlarg'd,
And far from noise, looks calmly o'er the grave.
Petrarch! hadst thou not liv'd, what mind had dar'd
To own that flame, kindled so near the throne
Of God, it makes man like him? From this height
I see the bleating lamb trot o'er the turf
That covers long descended kingdoms: hear
The tyger roar, where tyrants scourg'd mankind:
On roofs of buried palaces remark
The mole rearing her fabric; learn the hymn
Sweet Philomel sings to the warriors shade--
Far o'er the plain, beneath the midnight moon.
Here I gaze wond'ring at yon motley crowd,
Who eye me through a medium all their own.--
I like them not, their pageantry contemn--
They know not to communicate delight--
But square my compass with a mimic skill.",2009-09-14 19:44:09 UTC,"In Roman ampitheaters monarchs sat and watched ""How beasts of prey could tear the human heart, / Rich with some lov'd impression.-""",2005-05-16 00:00:00 UTC,"","",,Impression,"","Searching ""heart"" and ""impression"" in HDIS (Poetry)",15627,5873
"If I were rich, my boys might learn to breathe
Tones that ensnare the soul, shaking her pow'rs
With tremor much too exquisite. What boots
The languishment ideal, melting woe
So irresistible, when shades we love
Are heard by Fancy in melodious air?
Let those who feel declare.--Too oft the dance
In frightful labyrinth leaves the blooming maid,
Where virtue is no visitant. The moon
Then rises blushing, the fair wand'rer weeps
Neglected home, dreads her offended sire
Whose sole delight she was at morn, despairs,
And steals reluctantly to shades of vice,
Whence drop black poisons in the Tuscan grape
On her pale lip.--My sons, if rich, might wield
The fan emblaz'd with Psyche and her boy
O'er some enchantress, whose contagious sighs
Would blast the best impression of their souls.
The splendour of the virtuous mind appears
Brightest, when soaring to some unknown world,
Fearless of crowds beneath, or you would live
Virtuous unwisely. You are good and rich;
I poor--a vot'ry of wild fancy. When
You listen to my song, I am not poor;
You have not wealth enough to buy my joys:--
The chains of care fall off my pensive mind,
When through the winds your spirit hails me.--Thought,
Wondrous unwearied trav'ller, boldly roams
Around the spacious globe, attempts the skies
And heav'n, to find the object of its search;
Forms silent treaties, everlasting leagues
Between courageous independent minds,
Who fly far o'er the earth, and only bend
To virtue. Thought bears on eternal spring,
Colours to form our blessings, buds of hope
For souls serene, who taste pure joy, and live.
What bliss lives not in store of Thought! Our woes
Triumph at seasons, when we weary Thought
Down to our feebleness. For you it holds
The chart of moral worlds, unfolds the sphere
Of Truth!--Behold, my friend, yon eager throng
Driving each other o'er the sultry scene!
None mourn their neighbour's overthrow. In haste
To be more busy than their fellows, all
Forget their point, or know not when they pass'd
Their Sun's meridian. Morn was spent in vain,
Noon with impatience; ev'ning's cooler hour
Came not with contemplation. Glitt'ring forms
They chase! Ah see the shadows onward glide,
Elude them!--From the world the hunters fall.",2011-07-20 18:18:34 UTC,"""My sons, if rich, might wield / The fan emblaz'd with Psyche and her boy / O'er some enchantress, whose contagious sighs / Would blast the best impression of their souls.""",2005-05-18 00:00:00 UTC,"","",2011-07-20,Impression,"","Searching ""soul"" and ""impression"" in HDIS (Poetry)",15628,5885
"Conscious the mortal stamp is on thy breast,
O, Erskine! still an equal mind maintain,
That wild Ambition ne'er may goad thy rest,
Nor Fortune's smile awake thy triumph vain,
Whether thro' toilsome tho' renowned years
'Tis thine to trace the law's perplexing maze,
Or win the Sacred Seals, whose awful cares
To high decrees devote thy honour'd days.",2014-06-11 14:45:51 UTC,"""Conscious the mortal stamp is on thy breast.""",2005-04-11 00:00:00 UTC,Opening Stanzas,"",,Impressions,•Dated October 1796
,"Searching ""stamp"" and ""breast"" in HDIS (Poetry)",16135,6104