Savage, Mary (fl. 1763-1777)

Letter to Miss E.B. at Bath

1777

"Thus oft, from shop of brain, I try / To throw the dirt and rubbish by; / But still they gain their former state, / Or leave a vacuum in the pate."

To doggerel now I turn my pen:
A time may come (but lord knows when)
That I may try to think again.
At present in my brain there floats
A thousand parti-colored motes;
From which, if time would but permit,
I might sift some sparks of wit;
And many a line in verse and prose
Are lost, whilst half-asleep I doze.
My pineal gland could you but view,
You'd scarce believe your eyes see true:
There's such a jumble; good and bad,
All sorts of thoughts, may there be had;
Like broker's shop, where we may find
Goods that belong to half mankind;
Which, should the master dare produce,
Are little worth, and out of use;
And joy could sparkle in his face,
Could he put better in their place.
Thus oft, from shop of brain, I try
To throw the dirt and rubbish by;
But still they gain their former state,
Or leave a vacuum in the pate.
(ll. 1-23, p. 346 in Lonsdale edition)

Architecture::Shop Uncategorized::Dirt and Rubbish Container::Vacuum

Reading

Lonsdale, R. Ed. Eighteenth Century Women Poets. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1989.

07/28/2003