"So fell Great Britains Orpheus in his Rage, / When Furies in his Breast began to howl, / And Cares that wait on Life's uncertain Stage, / Had quite untun'd his Soul."
— Ward, Edward (1667-1731)
Author
Date
1707, 1709
Metaphor
"So fell Great Britains Orpheus in his Rage, / When Furies in his Breast began to howl, / And Cares that wait on Life's uncertain Stage, / Had quite untun'd his Soul."
Metaphor in Context
Tell how his nimble Fingers mov'd
Upon the yielding Keys,
Whilst Men and Angels equally approv'd,
His melting Strains, which could no less than please,
Those pious Souls who lov'd,
Such Musick that inspir'd the Mind with Peace,
But now no more shall we be blest,
With the soft Touches of that pow'rfull Hand,
Which senthi s Soul to rest;
Who did all Harmony Command,
That could beneath the Heavens be exprest,
To raise Devotion in his Native Land.
Yet jarring Discord made him court his Death,
And put a fatal stop to his harmonious Breath.
So the old Romans Wise and Brave,
By their Example taught,
'Twas easier to embrace the Grave,
Than bear the stabbing Force of anxious Thought.
The Disappointments of the Field,
Where Lawrels grow, with Blood manur'd.
Are worse than being kill'd,
To the undaunted Breast innur'd,
To the destructive Sword,
And the defensive Shield.
So the great Soul harmoniously compos'd,
Only made fit to entertain
Sweet Musick's Art by Heaven disclos'd,
To elevate the Thoughts of Men;
If once with Worldly Cares opprest,
It Labours to expire,
And Courts the trembling Hand to give it rest,
That when its unconfin'd
From Flesh and Blood to which 'tis join'd,
It then may mount in search of the Celestial Quire.
So fell Great Britains Orpheus in his Rage,
When Furies in his Breast began to howl,
And Cares that wait on Life's uncertain Stage,
Had quite untun'd his Soul;
Who hating Discord, could not bear
The Troubles of a tortur'd Mind,
Skill'd only in harmonious Air,
And quite avers'd to Care,
That oft afflicts the best of Humane Kind;
But when he found his strugling Breast
With insupportable Remorse opprest,
Such that could only have its Rise
From wanton Love or stubborn Vice,
He clapp'd Death's fatal Engine to his Head,
And hoping for eternal Rest.
Conquer'd those Vipers in his Conscience bred,
And with himself, shot all the stinging Fantoms dead.
Upon the yielding Keys,
Whilst Men and Angels equally approv'd,
His melting Strains, which could no less than please,
Those pious Souls who lov'd,
Such Musick that inspir'd the Mind with Peace,
But now no more shall we be blest,
With the soft Touches of that pow'rfull Hand,
Which senthi s Soul to rest;
Who did all Harmony Command,
That could beneath the Heavens be exprest,
To raise Devotion in his Native Land.
Yet jarring Discord made him court his Death,
And put a fatal stop to his harmonious Breath.
So the old Romans Wise and Brave,
By their Example taught,
'Twas easier to embrace the Grave,
Than bear the stabbing Force of anxious Thought.
The Disappointments of the Field,
Where Lawrels grow, with Blood manur'd.
Are worse than being kill'd,
To the undaunted Breast innur'd,
To the destructive Sword,
And the defensive Shield.
So the great Soul harmoniously compos'd,
Only made fit to entertain
Sweet Musick's Art by Heaven disclos'd,
To elevate the Thoughts of Men;
If once with Worldly Cares opprest,
It Labours to expire,
And Courts the trembling Hand to give it rest,
That when its unconfin'd
From Flesh and Blood to which 'tis join'd,
It then may mount in search of the Celestial Quire.
So fell Great Britains Orpheus in his Rage,
When Furies in his Breast began to howl,
And Cares that wait on Life's uncertain Stage,
Had quite untun'd his Soul;
Who hating Discord, could not bear
The Troubles of a tortur'd Mind,
Skill'd only in harmonious Air,
And quite avers'd to Care,
That oft afflicts the best of Humane Kind;
But when he found his strugling Breast
With insupportable Remorse opprest,
Such that could only have its Rise
From wanton Love or stubborn Vice,
He clapp'd Death's fatal Engine to his Head,
And hoping for eternal Rest.
Conquer'd those Vipers in his Conscience bred,
And with himself, shot all the stinging Fantoms dead.
Categories
Provenance
Searching in HDIS (Poetry)
Citation
2 entries in ECCO and ESTC (1707, 1709).
See The Diverting Muse, or, The Universal Medly. (London: Printed and Sold by B. Bragge, 1707), 211-6. <Link to ECCO>
Text from The Fourth Volume of the Writings Of the Author of the London-Spy. Prose and Verse (London: Printed for George Sawbridge, 1709).
See The Diverting Muse, or, The Universal Medly. (London: Printed and Sold by B. Bragge, 1707), 211-6. <Link to ECCO>
Text from The Fourth Volume of the Writings Of the Author of the London-Spy. Prose and Verse (London: Printed for George Sawbridge, 1709).
Date of Entry
04/14/2006
