"But as the fire / Refines the silver; so a taste of woe / Awakes the Soul."
— Mickle, William Julius [formerly William Meikle] (1734-1788)
Work Title
Place of Publication
London
Publisher
T. Becket and P. A. De Hondt
Date
1762
Metaphor
"But as the fire / Refines the silver; so a taste of woe / Awakes the Soul."
Metaphor in Context
Arandus now approach'd; a sudden dread
Surpriz'd Emilec, while with kind intent
The Sage began: Alas! why thus, my Son,
Driv'n on by fury, and that fiend Despair?
Summon thy Reason: Reason was ordain'd
By the eternal Sire to be our guide;
And when we disobey, 'tis yonder Heav'n
That holds us rebels: but her voice is low,
And very slow her speech; the young and vain
Or hear her not, or hear but part; the Calm
Alone can understand her heav'nly voice.
When Man goes hence, when o'er the silent Dead
The wild flow'rs of the field spring forth, the Mind,
Unfetter'd, then receives the just reward
Of ev'ry action: and, if Heav'n its lot,
Among the Sons of God, from joy to joy
For ever shall advance. Then, if it bore
The miseries of life with patient heart
And meek submission to the Will Supreme,
Sublime its joy shall be. Attend, my Son,
And let this awful truth sink to thy heart:
False is the heart of Man, false to itself,
When sweet Prosperity smiles all around:
Intoxicated with the pleasing cup,
Proud, hard, and selfish, it becomes; the voice
Of Mis'ry is but faintly heard; and God
Is quite forgot, or with a cold regard
Remember'd, if at all: But as the fire
Refines the silver; so a taste of woe
Awakes the Soul. Below the adverse tide
The little Mind is sunk; but the great Soul
With heav'nly lustre shines thro' the black cloud
Of dread Adversity, and great at last
Finds herself happy, and contemns her woes.
(pp. 7-8, ll. 114-47)
Surpriz'd Emilec, while with kind intent
The Sage began: Alas! why thus, my Son,
Driv'n on by fury, and that fiend Despair?
Summon thy Reason: Reason was ordain'd
By the eternal Sire to be our guide;
And when we disobey, 'tis yonder Heav'n
That holds us rebels: but her voice is low,
And very slow her speech; the young and vain
Or hear her not, or hear but part; the Calm
Alone can understand her heav'nly voice.
When Man goes hence, when o'er the silent Dead
The wild flow'rs of the field spring forth, the Mind,
Unfetter'd, then receives the just reward
Of ev'ry action: and, if Heav'n its lot,
Among the Sons of God, from joy to joy
For ever shall advance. Then, if it bore
The miseries of life with patient heart
And meek submission to the Will Supreme,
Sublime its joy shall be. Attend, my Son,
And let this awful truth sink to thy heart:
False is the heart of Man, false to itself,
When sweet Prosperity smiles all around:
Intoxicated with the pleasing cup,
Proud, hard, and selfish, it becomes; the voice
Of Mis'ry is but faintly heard; and God
Is quite forgot, or with a cold regard
Remember'd, if at all: But as the fire
Refines the silver; so a taste of woe
Awakes the Soul. Below the adverse tide
The little Mind is sunk; but the great Soul
With heav'nly lustre shines thro' the black cloud
Of dread Adversity, and great at last
Finds herself happy, and contemns her woes.
(pp. 7-8, ll. 114-47)
Categories
Provenance
Searching "soul" and "silver" in HDIS (Poetry)
Theme
Refinement
Date of Entry
06/03/2005
