work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context
4167,"",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),2004-07-15 00:00:00 UTC,"See, how resistless Orators perswade,
Draw out their Forces, and the Heart invade:
Touch ev'ry Spring and Movement of the Soul,
This Appetite excite, and That controul.
Their pow'rful Voice can flying Troops arrest,
Confirm the weak, and melt th' obdurate Breast;
Chace from the sad their melancholly Air,
Sooth Discontent, and solace anxious Care.
When threat'ning Tides of Rage and Anger rise,
Usurp the Throne, and Reason's Sway despise,
When in the Seats of Life this Tempest reigns,
Beats thro' the Heart, and drives along the Veins,
See, Eloquence with Force perswasive binds
The restless Waves, and charms the warring Winds:
Resistless bids tumultuous Uproar cease,
Recals the Calm, and gives the Bosom Peace.
(VII.354-369, pp. 332-3)",,10748,"","""See, how resistless Orators perswade, / Draw out their Forces, and the Heart invade: / Touch ev'ry Spring and Movement of the Soul, / This Appetite excite, and That controul.""",Empire,2013-08-07 14:02:54 UTC,Book VII
4183,"","Searching ""throne"" and ""reason"" in HDIS (Poetry)",2004-07-28 00:00:00 UTC,"So when impetuous Passions toss the Soul,
And Tides of boiling Blood reluctant roll;
Imperial Reason keeps her awful Throne,
Above the Tumult reigns unmov'd alone:
At her Command intestine Discords cease,
And all th' inferiour Pow'rs lie hush'd in Peace.
",2013-06-04,10854,"","""Imperial Reason keeps her awful Throne, / Above the Tumult reigns unmov'd alone: / At her Command intestine Discords cease, / And all th' inferiour Pow'rs lie hush'd in Peace.""",Empire and Throne,2013-06-04 20:58:49 UTC,""
3876,"",C-H Lion,2013-06-19 19:51:52 UTC,"All Sense is made by Contact, You allow:
Contact from unseen Particles doth grow,
Which from all Objects to the Senses flow.
If they'r Material, whence do they arise?
What is't their Energy and Force supplies?
Whether they always in the Air do rove,
And wait Impulses, by whose Laws they move?
Or, when they'r wanted, by the Object made,
And thence with Message to the Sense convey'd?
If these their Subtlety to Motion owe,
Fragments, that from attrited Matter grow,
How happ's it, Time hath not worn all things so?
And why may not succeeding Ages fear,
That Length of Time the Universe should wear,
Till nothing Solid in the World appear?
The Senses various Particles employ;
What strikes the Ear, doth not affect the Eye;
And where the Ear is deaf, and Eye is blind,
The subtle Smell can a Sensation find.
The Atoms different, as the Organs are,
And various Forms, various Contextures wear
Besides the different Motions they dispence
From diverse Objects unto every Sense:
By which they to the Judging Soul do show,
Whether they Acceptable are or no.
The Eye doth Knowledge of each Colour take,
That various Motions doth i'th' Organ make;
In such Variety, such Cost and Dress,
Not all the Flowers of Rhetorick can express.
But whether What do these Impulses give
Their Power from Angulous Particles receive;
Or barely they This unto Motion owe;
A Secret lies we vainly wish to know.
Since then Effluviums from all Objects break,
And thrô the Air their unseen Journeys take,
To every Sense in various Measures come;
How is it that the crowding Troops find room?
Numberless Numbers to each Sense repair,
That various Motions, Forms, and Garbs do wear;
Enough to stifle up the liquid Air.
The justling Streams, always in Motions be,
To all around without Distinction fly.
And from all parts of Matter since they flow,
And heady Journeys in cross Paths do go:
Who in their Passage doth prescribe them Laws?
Or guards them, that they no Confusion cause?
Why do not Storms disperse the Rays of Light,
Why not obstruct their Journey to our sight?
Or those bright Rays, that in clear Days arise,
And from ten thousand Objects cheer our Eyes,
Hinder the Motion of progressive Noise?
In the same Moment from all parts they flow,
Contrary Courses in their Journeys go;
At the same time all Senses gratifie,
Yet we no Battle, nor Confusion spy.
'Tis true they'r Subtle; But they Numerous are:
They'r liquid: Yet the thwarting troops may jarr;
For waves meet waves, & streams with streams do war.
(ll. 76-133)",,21031,"","""Since then Effluviums from all Objects break, / And thrô the Air their unseen Journeys take, / To every Sense in various Measures come; / How is it that the crowding Troops find room? / Numberless Numbers to each Sense repair, / That various Motions, Forms, and Garbs do wear; / Enough to stifle up the liquid Air.""",Inhabitants,2013-06-19 19:51:52 UTC,""