"So the bold Artist, that of You would speak / Should Patterns from Celestial Natures take; / And stamp his Soul in an Angelick Mold; Er'e he Your Vertues should attempt to' unfold."
— Heyrick, Thomas (bap. 1649. d. 1694)
Place of Publication
Cambridge
Publisher
Printed by John Hayes for the Author
Date
1691
Metaphor
"So the bold Artist, that of You would speak / Should Patterns from Celestial Natures take; / And stamp his Soul in an Angelick Mold; Er'e he Your Vertues should attempt to' unfold."
Metaphor in Context
The Cautious Heathens, er'e they would admit
Their Poets of their Deities to treat,
First at their Altars made them Homage pay,
And purge their Dross and looser Strains away:
That the Exalted Purified mind
Might Notions fit for Heavenly Beings find.
So the bold Artist, that of You would speak,
Should Patterns from Celestial Natures take;
And stamp his Soul in an Angelick Mold;
Er'e he Your Vertues should attempt to' unfold.
In highest Sciences we words do want;
Expressions, that may give our Notions vent:
Thus Rhet'rick dumb at Your Perfections grows;
Our Language then, that 'tis defective, shows.
And thô those Flowers, which other Tongues refine,
She doth unto her Treasures wisely join;
All's yet too low for Subjects so Divine.
Homer the Language of the Heavens could tell,
Mysterious Secrets of the Gods reveal:
He that, how Good, or Great You are, would show,
Had need the Depth of Heavenly wisdom know:
For all we deal with here doth flag too low.
Angels the Mighty work should undertake,
And shew what Words they for such Merits make.
Their Poets of their Deities to treat,
First at their Altars made them Homage pay,
And purge their Dross and looser Strains away:
That the Exalted Purified mind
Might Notions fit for Heavenly Beings find.
So the bold Artist, that of You would speak,
Should Patterns from Celestial Natures take;
And stamp his Soul in an Angelick Mold;
Er'e he Your Vertues should attempt to' unfold.
In highest Sciences we words do want;
Expressions, that may give our Notions vent:
Thus Rhet'rick dumb at Your Perfections grows;
Our Language then, that 'tis defective, shows.
And thô those Flowers, which other Tongues refine,
She doth unto her Treasures wisely join;
All's yet too low for Subjects so Divine.
Homer the Language of the Heavens could tell,
Mysterious Secrets of the Gods reveal:
He that, how Good, or Great You are, would show,
Had need the Depth of Heavenly wisdom know:
For all we deal with here doth flag too low.
Angels the Mighty work should undertake,
And shew what Words they for such Merits make.
Categories
Provenance
Searching "soul" and "stamp" in HDIS (Poetry)
Date of Entry
04/07/2005
