text,updated_at,metaphor,created_at,context,theme,reviewed_on,dictionary,comments,provenance,id,work_id
"In vain you hope Illustrious Youth will shine
Beneath th' Æquator, or th' Ecliptick Line;
Where Sun-burnt Nations, of a swarthy Skin,
Are fully'd o'er with blacker Clouds within.
Their Spirits suffer by too hot a Ray,
And their dry Brain grows dark with too much Day.
For while the Solar Orb, with Heat intense,
Concocts their Gold, it dissipates their Sense:
So much his Beam the Nerves of Moisture drains,
So draws transpiring Vapours from the Veins
Thro' gaping Pores, the Channels can't diffuse
O'er the parcht Head, sufficient gentle Dews.
Their Spirits burning with too fierce a Fire
Unqualify'd by proper Flegme, acquire
A Disposition so inept for Thought,
Few just Perceptions in their Minds are wrought.
The scorcht and pathless Desarts of the Brain,
Want proper Caves and Cells to entertain
A Crowd of airy Forms and long Ideal Train.",2009-09-14 19:35:12 UTC,"""The scorcht and pathless Desarts of the Brain, / Want proper Caves and Cells to entertain / A Crowd of airy Forms and long Ideal Train.""",2005-08-28 00:00:00 UTC,"","",,"","•I've included thrice: Desert, Cell, and Cave. INTEREST. Postcolonial. USE.",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),10712,4153
"Dreams which in Sleep their various Scenes display,
And mimick the Transactions of the Day,
Nor from th' Omniscient Pow'rs above descend,
Nor future Good presage, nor Ill portend,
Nor the conceal'd Decrees of Fate foreshow,
But from our waking Thoughts mechanically flow.
For Nature by fix'd Laws has wisely join'd
The bright Ideas of the conscious Mind
To Motions of the liquid spirit'ous Train,
Thro' previous Traces of the humid Brain;
These, when the Soul by drowsy Sleep oppress'd
Into her private Cell retires to Rest,
Thro' beaten Paths their wand'ring Courses take,
And Images confus'd of things awake.
(ll. 1-14)",2013-10-15 02:07:07 UTC,"""For Nature by fix'd Laws has wisely join'd / The bright Ideas of the conscious Mind / To Motions of the liquid spirit'ous Train, / Thro' previous Traces of the humid Brain; / These, when the Soul by drowsy Sleep oppress'd / Into her private Cell retires to Rest, / Thro' beaten Paths their wand'ring Courses take, / And Images confus'd of things awake.""",2005-08-17 00:00:00 UTC,Poems on Several Occasions. I've included the entire poem.,"",,Inhabitants and Rooms,INTEREST,"Searching ""soul"" and ""cell"" in HDIS (Poetry)",11457,4360
"Misom
Then you would have this variously disposing of the Images to be the work of the Spirits, that act under the Soul, as so many Labourers under some great Architect.
Phil.
I would so: And reflecting on what is transacted within us, it seems to me a very diverting Scene to think when we strive to recollect something that does not then occur; how nimbly those volatil Messengers of ours will beat through all the Paths, and hunt every Enclosure of the Organ set aside for thinking, in quest of the Images we want, and when we have forgot a Word or Sentence, which yet we are sure the great Treasury of Images received our Memory has once been charged with, we may almost feel how some of the Spirits flying through all the Mazes and Meanders rommage the whole substance of the Brain; whilst others ferret themselves into the inmost recesses of it with so much eagerness and labour, that the difficulty they meet with some times makes us uneasie, and they often bewilder themselves in their search, till at last they light by chance on the Image that contains what they look'd for, or else dragging it, as it were, by piece-meals from the dark Caverns of oblivion, represent what they can find of it to our Imagination.
(pp. 130-1)",2020-07-14 18:00:25 UTC,"""And reflecting on what is transacted within us, it seems to me a very diverting Scene to think when we strive to recollect something that does not then occur; how nimbly those volatil Messengers of ours will beat through all the Paths, and hunt every Enclosure of the Organ set aside for thinking, in quest of the Images we want, and when we have forgot a Word or Sentence, which yet we are sure the great Treasury of Images received our Memory has once been charged with, we may almost feel how some of the Spirits flying through all the Mazes and Meanders rommage the whole substance of the Brain; whilst others ferret themselves into the inmost recesses of it with so much eagerness and labour, that the difficulty they meet with some times makes us uneasie, and they often bewilder themselves in their search, till at last they light by chance on the Image that contains what they look'd for, or else dragging it, as it were, by piece-meals from the dark Caverns of oblivion, represent what they can find of it to our Imagination.""",2012-04-10 20:59:47 UTC,"",Animal Spirits,,Inhabitants,RICH PASSAGE. INTEREST. REVISIT.,"Reading. Encountered again in Jayne Lewis's ""Dialectic of Bewilderment,"" Eighteenth-Century Fiction 31, no. 3 (Spring 2019): 575–595, 575.",19677,4155
"Now as to the peculiar Qualities of the Eye, that fine Part of our Constitution seems as much the Receptacle and Seat of our Passions, Appetites and Inclinations as the Mind it self; and at least it is the outward Portal to introduce them to the House within, or rather the common Thorough-fare to let our Affections pass in and out. Love, Anger, Pride, and Avarice, all visibly move in those little Orbs. I know a young Lady that can't see a certain Gentleman pass by without shewing a secret Desire of seeing him again by a Dance in her Eye-balls; nay, she can't for the Heart of her help looking Half a Street's Length after any Man in a gay Dress. You can't behold a covetous Spirit walk by a Goldsmith's Shop without casting a wistful Eye at the Heaps upon the Counter. Does not a haughty Person shew the Temper of his Soul in the supercilious Rowl of his Eye? and how frequently in the Height of Passion does that moving Picture in our Head start and stare, gather a Redness and quick Flashes of Lightning, and make all its Humours sparkle with Fire, as Virgil finely describes it.",2013-06-17 19:34:06 UTC,"""Now as to the peculiar Qualities of the Eye, that fine Part of our Constitution seems as much the Receptacle and Seat of our Passions, Appetites and Inclinations as the Mind it self; and at least it is the outward Portal to introduce them to the House within, or rather the common Thorough-fare to let our Affections pass in and out.""",2013-06-17 19:34:06 UTC,"","",,Rooms,"","Searching ""mind"" in Project Gutenberg e-text.
",20893,7468
"Yet the silly wand'ring mind,
Loth to be too much confin'd,
Roves and takes her daily tours,
Coasting round the narrow shores,
Narrow shores of flesh and sense,
Picking shells and pebbles thence:
Or she sits at fancy's door,
Calling shapes and shadows to her,
Foreign visits still receiving,
And t'herself a stranger living.
Never, never would she buy
Indian dust, or Tyrian dye,
Never trade abroad for more,
If she saw her native store,
If her inward worth were known
She might ever live alone.
(p. 470, ll. 59-74)",2014-04-12 22:29:52 UTC,"""Yet the silly wand'ring mind, / Loth to be too much confin'd, / Roves and takes her daily tours, / Coasting round the narrow shores, / Narrow shores of flesh and sense, / Picking shells and pebbles thence: / Or she sits at fancy's door, / Calling shapes and shadows to her, / Foreign visits still receiving, / And t'herself a stranger living.""",2014-04-12 22:29:52 UTC,"",Stranger Within,,Inhabitants,"",Reading work in progress by Sarah Kareem.,23778,7864