In Vice's "foul abode ... hellish ministers with fatal care / From baneful drugs the potent juice prepare; / Whose dead'ning posset dulls the mental sense
— Combe, William (1742 -1823)
Author
Place of Publication
London
Publisher
Printed for the author
Date
1777
Metaphor
In Vice's "foul abode ... hellish ministers with fatal care / From baneful drugs the potent juice prepare; / Whose dead'ning posset dulls the mental sense
Metaphor in Context
You cannot know, my Lord, who never stray
From Virtue's fair and ever open way,
The various arts of Vice;--you never trod
The dark mæanders of her foul abode;
Where the base Fiend, with daily toil, prepares
The bold temptations and the secret snares;
Where grinning Scandal frames the daily lie,
And cunning weaves the web of flattery:
The lie that Malice, with insidious arm,
Shoots from her well-strung bow at Virtue's name:
The gentle Flattery that watchful Art
Slides, unperceived, into the heedless heart.
There Falshood forms, for unexperienc'd Youth,
The subtle glass that o'er the brow of Truth
Throws frowns of angry aspect, and beguiles
Her own disgusting face with winning smiles.
There busy Spirits forge, with curious art,
The triple plates of brass, to guard the heart
From Reason's bold assault;--and the glad eye
Of Pride beholds the stubborn armory.
There hellish ministers with fatal care
From baneful drugs the potent juice prepare;
Whose dead'ning posset dulls the mental sense
Against the wholesome pains of Penitence.
Such are the arts I combat, such the foe,
At whose proud crest I aim the pointed blow.
From Virtue's fair and ever open way,
The various arts of Vice;--you never trod
The dark mæanders of her foul abode;
Where the base Fiend, with daily toil, prepares
The bold temptations and the secret snares;
Where grinning Scandal frames the daily lie,
And cunning weaves the web of flattery:
The lie that Malice, with insidious arm,
Shoots from her well-strung bow at Virtue's name:
The gentle Flattery that watchful Art
Slides, unperceived, into the heedless heart.
There Falshood forms, for unexperienc'd Youth,
The subtle glass that o'er the brow of Truth
Throws frowns of angry aspect, and beguiles
Her own disgusting face with winning smiles.
There busy Spirits forge, with curious art,
The triple plates of brass, to guard the heart
From Reason's bold assault;--and the glad eye
Of Pride beholds the stubborn armory.
There hellish ministers with fatal care
From baneful drugs the potent juice prepare;
Whose dead'ning posset dulls the mental sense
Against the wholesome pains of Penitence.
Such are the arts I combat, such the foe,
At whose proud crest I aim the pointed blow.
Categories
Provenance
Searching HDIS (Poetry)
Citation
William Combe, The Justification (London: 1777). <Link to Google Books><Copy 2>
Date of Entry
06/07/2005
