"If, holy Father, to be here distress'd, / Seals the repenting Soul to heav'nly rest,"
— Jeffreys, George (1678-1755)
Author
Place of Publication
London
Publisher
Printed for the Author
Date
1754
Metaphor
"If, holy Father, to be here distress'd, / Seals the repenting Soul to heav'nly rest,"
Metaphor in Context
If, holy Father, to be here distress'd,
Seals the repenting Soul to heav'nly rest,
There's hope for Me in that immortal state;
For I, alas! am most unfortunate.
O! were That all, I might my tale pursue
Without a blush; but I am guilty too
Excuse these tears: the memory of One,
By too much love, and love of Me, undone,
One whom I lov'd;--be witness, Heav'n, how dear--
You seem disturb'd, and I shall tire your ear.
But grief is eas'd by freedom to complain;
Ah wretched freedom! ease indulg'd in vain!
What shall I say? my Father's dire decree
And tyrant duty rent my Love from Me.
Another, then, his hated vows address'd;
To him (but spare my shame, and guess the rest)
I, Coward I consenting to be bound,
Gave my despairing Youth his mortal wound:
For oh! he disappear'd at once; but see
A surer proof, his dying Legacy.
Read, and imagine what that Letter meant,
(A Letter here she gave) the last he sent;
See there how fatal my refusal prov'd!
How much he bore! how tenderly he lov'd!
And oh! if Love, if Pity e'er you felt,
(For You can weep, and You begin to melt)
Let me indulge a grief so justly due:
My Theodosius! as too fond! too true!
Seals the repenting Soul to heav'nly rest,
There's hope for Me in that immortal state;
For I, alas! am most unfortunate.
O! were That all, I might my tale pursue
Without a blush; but I am guilty too
Excuse these tears: the memory of One,
By too much love, and love of Me, undone,
One whom I lov'd;--be witness, Heav'n, how dear--
You seem disturb'd, and I shall tire your ear.
But grief is eas'd by freedom to complain;
Ah wretched freedom! ease indulg'd in vain!
What shall I say? my Father's dire decree
And tyrant duty rent my Love from Me.
Another, then, his hated vows address'd;
To him (but spare my shame, and guess the rest)
I, Coward I consenting to be bound,
Gave my despairing Youth his mortal wound:
For oh! he disappear'd at once; but see
A surer proof, his dying Legacy.
Read, and imagine what that Letter meant,
(A Letter here she gave) the last he sent;
See there how fatal my refusal prov'd!
How much he bore! how tenderly he lov'd!
And oh! if Love, if Pity e'er you felt,
(For You can weep, and You begin to melt)
Let me indulge a grief so justly due:
My Theodosius! as too fond! too true!
Categories
Provenance
Searching "soul" and "seal" in HDIS (Poetry)
Citation
Miscellanies, in Verse and Prose. By George Jeffreys (London: Printed for the Author, 1754). <Link to ECCO>
Date of Entry
04/19/2005
