"And made her Face the Mirror to her Soul!"
— Gould, Robert (b. 1660?, d. in or before 1709)
Place of Publication
London
Publisher
Printed for W. Lewis
Date
1709
Metaphor
"And made her Face the Mirror to her Soul!"
Metaphor in Context
The News his Mother with Distraction hears,
A Rage of Sorrow! and a burst of Tears!
The Sweets her Visage cou'd so lately boast,
With Anguish rifl'd, and in weeping lost!
A Deathlike Pale reign'd there without controul,
And made her Face the Mirror to her Soul!
So much her Sorrow did th'Ascendant gain,
Her Travel for him was a smaller Pain:
Tho' never was there yet among the Fair,
One that deserv'd Exemption more from Care;--
But Vertue's not to be rewarded here.
His Beaute'ous Sister on her Mother hung,
And mournful Accents trembl'd from her Tongue:
Nor shall she yet forget to sigh his Name,
Till her fair Eyes have found out nobler Game,
Dispencing Darts that will not miss their Aim.
His loving Brothers, bending with the Blow,
Were not the meanest in this Scene of Woe:
But chiefly He, for Worth and Learning known,
Whom Truth adorns, and Friendship makes my Own.
His Pious Father, with erected Eyes,
All Dumb with Grief, and stiff'ning with Surprize,
Made yet this Flight of Sorrow higher rise!
Tho' Balm he pours into another's Moan,
He wou'd not, or he cou'd not cease his own.
A Thousand Ways in our Distress he finds,
To mitigate our Grief; and calm our Minds,
But all his Wisdom not himself relieves;
Like Heav'n he Counsels, but like Man he grieves!
A Rage of Sorrow! and a burst of Tears!
The Sweets her Visage cou'd so lately boast,
With Anguish rifl'd, and in weeping lost!
A Deathlike Pale reign'd there without controul,
And made her Face the Mirror to her Soul!
So much her Sorrow did th'Ascendant gain,
Her Travel for him was a smaller Pain:
Tho' never was there yet among the Fair,
One that deserv'd Exemption more from Care;--
But Vertue's not to be rewarded here.
His Beaute'ous Sister on her Mother hung,
And mournful Accents trembl'd from her Tongue:
Nor shall she yet forget to sigh his Name,
Till her fair Eyes have found out nobler Game,
Dispencing Darts that will not miss their Aim.
His loving Brothers, bending with the Blow,
Were not the meanest in this Scene of Woe:
But chiefly He, for Worth and Learning known,
Whom Truth adorns, and Friendship makes my Own.
His Pious Father, with erected Eyes,
All Dumb with Grief, and stiff'ning with Surprize,
Made yet this Flight of Sorrow higher rise!
Tho' Balm he pours into another's Moan,
He wou'd not, or he cou'd not cease his own.
A Thousand Ways in our Distress he finds,
To mitigate our Grief; and calm our Minds,
But all his Wisdom not himself relieves;
Like Heav'n he Counsels, but like Man he grieves!
Categories
Provenance
Searching "soul" and "mirror" in HDIS (Poetry)
Citation
Text from The Works of Mr. Robert Gould: In Two Volumes. Consisting of those Poems and Satyrs Which were formerly Printed, and Corrected since by the Author; As also of the many more which He Design'd for the Press. Publish'd from his Own Original Copies (London: W. Lewis, 1709). <Link to ECCO>
Theme
Physiognomy
Date of Entry
11/21/2005
