One shouldn't "dread th' Effects of all their treach'rous Arts, / Their boasted Stratagems to conquer Hearts"
— Rowe [née Singer], Elizabeth (1674-1737)
Place of Publication
London
Publisher
Printed for E. Curll
Date
1737
Metaphor
One shouldn't "dread th' Effects of all their treach'rous Arts, / Their boasted Stratagems to conquer Hearts"
Metaphor in Context
Still must we mourn thy Absence? still complain,
And court Thee from thy sad Retreat in vain?
When teeming Earth with fruitful Moisture fed,
Brings forth new Flow'rs, to deck the Paths You tread;
When each returning Morn shines doubly bright,
And each cool Ev'ning brings a charming Night,
The Country-Shades may yield a soft Delight.
But when o'er All the savage Winter reigns,
Makes bare the Groves, and desolates the Plains;
When Nature's Face is chang'd, and ev'ry Day
Snatches some poor, decaying Charm away,
'Tis Madness, dear Clymene, then to stay.
What new, unheard-of Pleasures can'st Thou find;
What strange Delights, to entertain thy Mind?
Or do important Reasons force thy Will,
And to the gloomy Scene confine thee still?
I guess the mighty Cause: Thou fear'st to prove,
In this vile Town, the dreadful Thing call'd Love.
The little Tyrant reigns amidst the Sport,
The Smiles and Pleasures of the Town and Court.
Nor only there; Him ev'n the Wilds obey,
And Country-Desarts own his aweful Sway.
In vain to Woods and Solitudes we fly,
In vain the City change for purer Sky;
More dang'rous ev'n than Courts the Shades may prove,
And with more Ease admit th' Invader, Love.
Wild was the Place, and savage all around,
Where fair Angelica young Medor found.
Severe the Dame, but grave, and sternly coy;
Am'rous, soft too, and tender was the Boy:
You know the rest--Then haste from your Abodes,
Leave the weak Shelter of the Fields and Woods:
O! come, and in a Thousand Breasts inspire
Successless Rage, and unavailing Fire.
Nor dread th' Effects of all their treach'rous Arts,
Their boasted Stratagems to conquer Hearts:
Unless the Fates assist, their moving Tale
Will never o'er your native Cold prevail.
To prove this true, believe the Tale I tell;
Not Oracles more Sacred Truths reveal.
And court Thee from thy sad Retreat in vain?
When teeming Earth with fruitful Moisture fed,
Brings forth new Flow'rs, to deck the Paths You tread;
When each returning Morn shines doubly bright,
And each cool Ev'ning brings a charming Night,
The Country-Shades may yield a soft Delight.
But when o'er All the savage Winter reigns,
Makes bare the Groves, and desolates the Plains;
When Nature's Face is chang'd, and ev'ry Day
Snatches some poor, decaying Charm away,
'Tis Madness, dear Clymene, then to stay.
What new, unheard-of Pleasures can'st Thou find;
What strange Delights, to entertain thy Mind?
Or do important Reasons force thy Will,
And to the gloomy Scene confine thee still?
I guess the mighty Cause: Thou fear'st to prove,
In this vile Town, the dreadful Thing call'd Love.
The little Tyrant reigns amidst the Sport,
The Smiles and Pleasures of the Town and Court.
Nor only there; Him ev'n the Wilds obey,
And Country-Desarts own his aweful Sway.
In vain to Woods and Solitudes we fly,
In vain the City change for purer Sky;
More dang'rous ev'n than Courts the Shades may prove,
And with more Ease admit th' Invader, Love.
Wild was the Place, and savage all around,
Where fair Angelica young Medor found.
Severe the Dame, but grave, and sternly coy;
Am'rous, soft too, and tender was the Boy:
You know the rest--Then haste from your Abodes,
Leave the weak Shelter of the Fields and Woods:
O! come, and in a Thousand Breasts inspire
Successless Rage, and unavailing Fire.
Nor dread th' Effects of all their treach'rous Arts,
Their boasted Stratagems to conquer Hearts:
Unless the Fates assist, their moving Tale
Will never o'er your native Cold prevail.
To prove this true, believe the Tale I tell;
Not Oracles more Sacred Truths reveal.
Categories
Provenance
Searching "conque" and "heart" in HDIS (Poetry)
Citation
Text Philomela: or, Poems by Mrs. Elizabeth Singer, ( now Rowe, ) of Frome in Somersetshire. The second edition. (London: Printed for E. Curll, at Pope’s-Head, in Rose-Street, Covent-Garden, 1737).
Date of Entry
02/14/2005
