"Is then my heart to all the world beside / Softer than melting wax or summer snow, / But to myself harder than adamant?"
— Watts, Isaac (1674-1748)
Author
Place of Publication
London
Publisher
Printed for Richard Ford and Richard Hett
Date
1734
Metaphor
"Is then my heart to all the world beside / Softer than melting wax or summer snow, / But to myself harder than adamant?"
Metaphor in Context
Can I then grieve for ev'ry wretch's woe,
And weep if I but hear a tale of sorrow?
Say, can I share in ev'ry one's affection,
Yet still remain thus stupid to my own?
Is then my heart to all the world beside
Softer than melting wax or summer snow,
But to myself harder than adamant?
Can I behold the ruin Sin has made,
And feel God's image in my soul defac'd;
Nor heave a sigh, nor drop a pitying tear
At my sad fate, nor lift my eyes to heav'n
For aid against the flatt'ries of the world,
The wiles of Satan and the joys of sense?
Give me, ye springs, O give me all your streams
That I may weep; nor thus with stupid gaze
Behold my ruin, like a wretch inchanted
Whose faculties are bound with pow'rful charms,
To some accursed spot of earth confin'd.
Give me, ye gentle winds, your balmy breath
To heave my bosom with continued sighs.--
Teach me, ye wood-doves, your complaining note,
To mourn my fall, to mourn my rocky heart,
My headstrong will, and every sinful thought.
In silent shades retir'd I long to dwell,
Far from the tumults of the busy world,
And all the sounds of mirth and clamorous joy,
Till every stormy passion is subdu'd,
And God has full possession of my soul;
Till all my wishes centre in his will,
And I no more am fetter'd to the world;
Till all the business of my life is praise,
And my full heart o'erflows with heav'nly love,
While all created beauties lose their charms,
And God is all in all.
And weep if I but hear a tale of sorrow?
Say, can I share in ev'ry one's affection,
Yet still remain thus stupid to my own?
Is then my heart to all the world beside
Softer than melting wax or summer snow,
But to myself harder than adamant?
Can I behold the ruin Sin has made,
And feel God's image in my soul defac'd;
Nor heave a sigh, nor drop a pitying tear
At my sad fate, nor lift my eyes to heav'n
For aid against the flatt'ries of the world,
The wiles of Satan and the joys of sense?
Give me, ye springs, O give me all your streams
That I may weep; nor thus with stupid gaze
Behold my ruin, like a wretch inchanted
Whose faculties are bound with pow'rful charms,
To some accursed spot of earth confin'd.
Give me, ye gentle winds, your balmy breath
To heave my bosom with continued sighs.--
Teach me, ye wood-doves, your complaining note,
To mourn my fall, to mourn my rocky heart,
My headstrong will, and every sinful thought.
In silent shades retir'd I long to dwell,
Far from the tumults of the busy world,
And all the sounds of mirth and clamorous joy,
Till every stormy passion is subdu'd,
And God has full possession of my soul;
Till all my wishes centre in his will,
And I no more am fetter'd to the world;
Till all the business of my life is praise,
And my full heart o'erflows with heav'nly love,
While all created beauties lose their charms,
And God is all in all.
Provenance
Searching "wax" and "heart" in HDIS (Poetry)
Citation
Isaac Watts, Reliquiae Juveniles: Miscellaneous Thoughts in Prose and Verse, on Natural, Moral, and Divine Subjects; Written Chiefly in Younger Years. By I. Watts, D.D. (London: Printed for Richard Ford at the Angel, and Richard Hett at the Bible and Crown, 1734). <Link to ECCO>
Text from The Works of the Reverend and Learned Isaac Watts, D. D., 6 vols. (London: Printed by and for John Barfield, 1810).
Text from The Works of the Reverend and Learned Isaac Watts, D. D., 6 vols. (London: Printed by and for John Barfield, 1810).
Date of Entry
03/27/2005
Date of Review
07/20/2011
