"And yet no dire Presage so wounds my Mind, / My Mother's Death, the Ruin of my Kind, / Not Priam 's hoary Hairs defil'd with Gore, / Not all my Brothers gasping on the Shore; / As thine, Andromache!"
— Pope, Alexander (1688-1744)
Author
Work Title
Place of Publication
London
Publisher
Printed by W. Bowyer, for Bernard Lintott
Date
1715-1720
Metaphor
"And yet no dire Presage so wounds my Mind, / My Mother's Death, the Ruin of my Kind, / Not Priam 's hoary Hairs defil'd with Gore, / Not all my Brothers gasping on the Shore; / As thine, Andromache!"
Metaphor in Context
Yet come it will, the Day decreed by Fates;
(How my Heart trembles while my Tongue relates!)
The Day when thou, Imperial Troy ! must bend,
And see thy Warriors fall, thy Glories end.
And yet no dire Presage so wounds my Mind,
My Mother's Death, the Ruin of my Kind,
Not Priam 's hoary Hairs defil'd with Gore,
Not all my Brothers gasping on the Shore;
As thine, Andromache! thy Griefs I dread;
I see thee trembling, weeping, Captive led!
In Argive Looms our Battels to design,
And Woes, of which so large a Part was thine!
To bear the Victor's hard Commands, or bring
The Weight of Waters from Hyperia 's Spring.
There, while you groan beneath the Load of Life,
They cry, Behold the mighty Hector 's Wife!
Some haughty Greek who lives thy Tears to see,
Embitters all thy Woes, by naming me.
The Thoughts of Glory past, and present Shame,
A thousand Griefs shall waken at the Name!
May I lie cold before that dreadful Day,
Press'd with a Load of Monumental Clay!
Thy Hector wrapt in everlasting Sleep,
Shall neither hear thee sigh, nor see thee weep.
(ll. 570-93)
(How my Heart trembles while my Tongue relates!)
The Day when thou, Imperial Troy ! must bend,
And see thy Warriors fall, thy Glories end.
And yet no dire Presage so wounds my Mind,
My Mother's Death, the Ruin of my Kind,
Not Priam 's hoary Hairs defil'd with Gore,
Not all my Brothers gasping on the Shore;
As thine, Andromache! thy Griefs I dread;
I see thee trembling, weeping, Captive led!
In Argive Looms our Battels to design,
And Woes, of which so large a Part was thine!
To bear the Victor's hard Commands, or bring
The Weight of Waters from Hyperia 's Spring.
There, while you groan beneath the Load of Life,
They cry, Behold the mighty Hector 's Wife!
Some haughty Greek who lives thy Tears to see,
Embitters all thy Woes, by naming me.
The Thoughts of Glory past, and present Shame,
A thousand Griefs shall waken at the Name!
May I lie cold before that dreadful Day,
Press'd with a Load of Monumental Clay!
Thy Hector wrapt in everlasting Sleep,
Shall neither hear thee sigh, nor see thee weep.
(ll. 570-93)
Categories
Provenance
HDIS
Citation
17 entries in ESTC (1715, 1718, 1720, 1721, 1729, 1732, 1736, 1738, 1754, 1767, 1770, 1790, 1791, 1796). Vol. 2 is dated 1716; vol. 3, 1717; vol. 4, 1718; vols. 5 and 6, 1720.
See The Iliad of Homer, Translated by Mr. Pope, 6 vols. (London: Printed by W. Bowyer, for Bernard Lintott, 1715-1720). <Link to ESTC><Link to Vol. I in ECCO-TCP><Vol. II><Vol. III><Vol. IV><Vol. V><Vol. VI>
See The Iliad of Homer, Translated by Mr. Pope, 6 vols. (London: Printed by W. Bowyer, for Bernard Lintott, 1715-1720). <Link to ESTC><Link to Vol. I in ECCO-TCP><Vol. II><Vol. III><Vol. IV><Vol. V><Vol. VI>
Date of Entry
10/26/2003
