In death "all to the same Dungeon are confin'd" and "No Busie Thoughts invade the Labouring Mind"
— Oldisworth, William (1680-1734)
Place of Publication
London
Publisher
Printed, and sold for the Benefit of the author, by George Sawbridge ... Robert Knaplock and Henry Clements [etc.]
Date
1715
Metaphor
In death "all to the same Dungeon are confin'd" and "No Busie Thoughts invade the Labouring Mind"
Metaphor in Context
Ye Heavens! Unrivet but one Link of Fate,
Forget that Day which to my Birth gave Date;
Curst be the Night, when from the Genial Bed
I was in Triumph to my Father led.
O! Why was I not Strangled in the Womb,
Or left my Cradle for a Peaceful Tomb?
For ever be that Day forgot ------
O! may the Sun, at each revolving Year,
Stop when he sees the Luckless Moment near:
Let dismal Screech-Owls multiply their Notes,
And threaten Ruin from their Boding Throats:
May such amazing Darkness then appear,
To fright that Day and Night from out the Year.
Why did the Midwife ease my Mothers throws?
Why did the Womb so willingly unclose,
And me to Life and Misery Expose?
How Happy were I now, had I ne'er been,
Had I the Miseries of Life ne'er seen?
With Kings and Statesmen shou'd my Dwelling have
Within that dark retiring Room, the Grave;
There Sin and Virtue both together rest,
The Poor is by the Tyrant Un-Opprest:
The Pris'ner with the Judge undaunted lies,
Nor dreads his Second Sentence, that he dies:
Nor Great nor Small, the least Distinction find,
No Busie Thoughts invade the Labouring Mind,
But all to the same Dungeon are confin'd.
Why shou'd the Man that loaths the Light to see,
Drag on a Tedious Life of Misery?
Like wearied Travellers that long for Home,
I wish for Death, but Death denies to come.
What Use is Day of to the Man that's Blind?
Sure for his sake the Stars were ne'er design'd?
The Stomach pall'd, why do you offer Meat?
Hunger is less a Pain than 'tis to Eat:
With mightier Griefs my wearied Soul's opprest,
Hunger can now no more disturb my Rest.
'Midst Show'rs of Plenty I foresaw this Storm,
Yet all my Prudence cou'd not shun th'Alarm,
Nor Patience 'gainst the threatned Ruin Arm.
Forget that Day which to my Birth gave Date;
Curst be the Night, when from the Genial Bed
I was in Triumph to my Father led.
O! Why was I not Strangled in the Womb,
Or left my Cradle for a Peaceful Tomb?
For ever be that Day forgot ------
O! may the Sun, at each revolving Year,
Stop when he sees the Luckless Moment near:
Let dismal Screech-Owls multiply their Notes,
And threaten Ruin from their Boding Throats:
May such amazing Darkness then appear,
To fright that Day and Night from out the Year.
Why did the Midwife ease my Mothers throws?
Why did the Womb so willingly unclose,
And me to Life and Misery Expose?
How Happy were I now, had I ne'er been,
Had I the Miseries of Life ne'er seen?
With Kings and Statesmen shou'd my Dwelling have
Within that dark retiring Room, the Grave;
There Sin and Virtue both together rest,
The Poor is by the Tyrant Un-Opprest:
The Pris'ner with the Judge undaunted lies,
Nor dreads his Second Sentence, that he dies:
Nor Great nor Small, the least Distinction find,
No Busie Thoughts invade the Labouring Mind,
But all to the same Dungeon are confin'd.
Why shou'd the Man that loaths the Light to see,
Drag on a Tedious Life of Misery?
Like wearied Travellers that long for Home,
I wish for Death, but Death denies to come.
What Use is Day of to the Man that's Blind?
Sure for his sake the Stars were ne'er design'd?
The Stomach pall'd, why do you offer Meat?
Hunger is less a Pain than 'tis to Eat:
With mightier Griefs my wearied Soul's opprest,
Hunger can now no more disturb my Rest.
'Midst Show'rs of Plenty I foresaw this Storm,
Yet all my Prudence cou'd not shun th'Alarm,
Nor Patience 'gainst the threatned Ruin Arm.
Categories
Provenance
Searching "mind" and "invad" in HDIS (Poetry)
Date of Entry
05/04/2005
