"[B]e not over-curious to express / Too much Exactness in an outward Dress; / Lest peevish Passion should too oft prevail, / To banish Reason from its Throne, and vail / Sound Judgment"
— Mollineux [née Southworth], Mary (1651-1695)
Place of Publication
London
Publisher
Printed and Sold by T. Sowle
Date
w. 1678, 1702
Metaphor
"[B]e not over-curious to express / Too much Exactness in an outward Dress; / Lest peevish Passion should too oft prevail, / To banish Reason from its Throne, and vail / Sound Judgment"
Metaphor in Context
That Love (dear Friend) which brings thee to my Mind,
Thus frequently, hath now again inclin'd
To visit thee, with these Considerations
Concerning thee: O Let thy Meditations
Hereof be serious! Let all Vanity
Be far exil'd, and love Simplicity.
Shall I object to thee the Pompons State
Of Purple Dives, or his Dreadful Fate?
Nay surely! Thou the History canst read;
Read thou within, and let not Self-hood plead.
His Unrelenting Heart despis'd the Poor,
Ev'n Lazarus, that Languish'd at his Door,
Without Relief: Whereas in such a State,
I should (think'st thou) be more Compassionate,
And not so disregard him. Ah, my Friend!
Though some a Hand of Charity extend,
As outwardly (which in its place is good)
Imparting sometimes Raiment, sometimes Food,
To Fellow-Creatures: Yet there's one that's Poor,
Humble and Meek, contemned at thy Door;
That waits for entrance, and that gently knocks,
Until the Dew have wet his Comely Locks;
Open to entertain him now, for He
Is come, in tender Love, to visit thee:
And tho' Poor, Meek and Lowly he appear,
He's King of Kings; therefore incline thine Ear
To his Request, that he may dwell with thee,
Whose Love's the Fountain of Felicity.
Let Superfluities be laid aside,
The Gaudy Trophies of Insulting Pride;
And be not over-curious to express
Too much Exactness in an outward Dress;
Lest peevish Passion should too oft prevail,
To banish Reason from its Throne, and vail
Sound Judgment; which would search and purify
Submissive Souls from their Iniquity,
And Vanity, abounding in th'abuse
Of Visibles, which Mortals fondly choose,
And seek a Satisfaction in, in vain;
For here no lasting Joy can they obtain.
Why then should any so unmindful be
Of that great Off-spring of Eternity,
Th'Immortal Soul? That Epitome of Wonder;
Compar'd to which, all things beneath or under
The Glorious Sun are vain! What can be given
In change for this, whose proper Home is Heaven?
Ah, what advantage will it be to gain
The World, and plunge the Soul in Endless Pain!
Alas! Earths transient, vain, deluding Toys,
So fondly snatch'd at, for true lasting Joys,
Tho' (as by Rattles oft a Crying Child
Is for a season of the Breast beguil'd)
They seem to please, can never satiate
The Panting Soul, nor bring t'a Blessed State:
Why should they thus be priz'd, my Friend! O seeing
Thou art the Off-spring of th'Eternal Being:
Whilst that the Lord of Lords invites thee, come,
Love him that will conduct thee safely home,
Unto himself; and in thy Heart reveal
Eternal Life, as the abiding Seal
Of his endeared Love: Then Heav'nly Joy
Shall Consolate thy Heart Eternally.
Alas, that thou hereby might'st rightly know
How the abounding Streams of Love do flow
To thee and others, with increasing Store;
Its Boundless Current streams and issues more
Than through the slender Conduit of a Quill,
In such small sable Channels can distill:
O may'st thou always at the Fountain dwell!
For it's unseal'd to wrestling Israel.
Thus frequently, hath now again inclin'd
To visit thee, with these Considerations
Concerning thee: O Let thy Meditations
Hereof be serious! Let all Vanity
Be far exil'd, and love Simplicity.
Shall I object to thee the Pompons State
Of Purple Dives, or his Dreadful Fate?
Nay surely! Thou the History canst read;
Read thou within, and let not Self-hood plead.
His Unrelenting Heart despis'd the Poor,
Ev'n Lazarus, that Languish'd at his Door,
Without Relief: Whereas in such a State,
I should (think'st thou) be more Compassionate,
And not so disregard him. Ah, my Friend!
Though some a Hand of Charity extend,
As outwardly (which in its place is good)
Imparting sometimes Raiment, sometimes Food,
To Fellow-Creatures: Yet there's one that's Poor,
Humble and Meek, contemned at thy Door;
That waits for entrance, and that gently knocks,
Until the Dew have wet his Comely Locks;
Open to entertain him now, for He
Is come, in tender Love, to visit thee:
And tho' Poor, Meek and Lowly he appear,
He's King of Kings; therefore incline thine Ear
To his Request, that he may dwell with thee,
Whose Love's the Fountain of Felicity.
Let Superfluities be laid aside,
The Gaudy Trophies of Insulting Pride;
And be not over-curious to express
Too much Exactness in an outward Dress;
Lest peevish Passion should too oft prevail,
To banish Reason from its Throne, and vail
Sound Judgment; which would search and purify
Submissive Souls from their Iniquity,
And Vanity, abounding in th'abuse
Of Visibles, which Mortals fondly choose,
And seek a Satisfaction in, in vain;
For here no lasting Joy can they obtain.
Why then should any so unmindful be
Of that great Off-spring of Eternity,
Th'Immortal Soul? That Epitome of Wonder;
Compar'd to which, all things beneath or under
The Glorious Sun are vain! What can be given
In change for this, whose proper Home is Heaven?
Ah, what advantage will it be to gain
The World, and plunge the Soul in Endless Pain!
Alas! Earths transient, vain, deluding Toys,
So fondly snatch'd at, for true lasting Joys,
Tho' (as by Rattles oft a Crying Child
Is for a season of the Breast beguil'd)
They seem to please, can never satiate
The Panting Soul, nor bring t'a Blessed State:
Why should they thus be priz'd, my Friend! O seeing
Thou art the Off-spring of th'Eternal Being:
Whilst that the Lord of Lords invites thee, come,
Love him that will conduct thee safely home,
Unto himself; and in thy Heart reveal
Eternal Life, as the abiding Seal
Of his endeared Love: Then Heav'nly Joy
Shall Consolate thy Heart Eternally.
Alas, that thou hereby might'st rightly know
How the abounding Streams of Love do flow
To thee and others, with increasing Store;
Its Boundless Current streams and issues more
Than through the slender Conduit of a Quill,
In such small sable Channels can distill:
O may'st thou always at the Fountain dwell!
For it's unseal'd to wrestling Israel.
Categories
Provenance
Searching "throne" and "reason" in HDIS (Poetry)
Citation
At least 7 entries in ESTC (1702, 1720, 1729, 1739, 1761, 1772, 1776).
See Fruits of Retirement: or, Miscellaneous Poems, Moral and Divine. Being Some Contemplations, Letters, &C. Written on Variety of Subjects and Occasions. By Mary Mollineux, Late of Leverpool, Deceased. To Which Is Prefixed, Some Account of the Author. (London: printed and sold by T. Sowle, in White-Hart-Court in Gracious-Street, 1702). <Link to ESTC>
See Fruits of Retirement: or, Miscellaneous Poems, Moral and Divine. Being Some Contemplations, Letters, &C. Written on Variety of Subjects and Occasions. By Mary Mollineux, Late of Leverpool, Deceased. To Which Is Prefixed, Some Account of the Author. (London: printed and sold by T. Sowle, in White-Hart-Court in Gracious-Street, 1702). <Link to ESTC>
Date of Entry
07/16/2004
