"I love to weep, love the soft feast of grief, / Court mournful thoughts, nor ever wish relief;-- / Sadness I woo, yet still the phantom flies, / And joy seduces, whilst I ask for sighs."
— Cowley [née Parkhouse], Hannah (1743-1809)
Work Title
Place of Publication
London
Publisher
Printed by J. Davies ... for T. Evans [etc.]
Date
1784
Metaphor
"I love to weep, love the soft feast of grief, / Court mournful thoughts, nor ever wish relief;-- / Sadness I woo, yet still the phantom flies, / And joy seduces, whilst I ask for sighs."
Metaphor in Context
Hindostan's golden shores, with hallow'd waves;
Where palms gigantic rear their tufted heads,
And nature in colossal vegetation spreads,
Where rich ananas court the Indian's eye,
And groves of citrons fan the fev'rish sky,
Where rattling canes around the riv'lets play,
And the centennial aloe drinks the day!
In their deep shades bid Lucidorus smile,
His heavy sense of distant hours beguile.
Bid him not think, because I gaily write,
That heavy hours to him, to me, are light;
My native spirits, bounding from repose,
Bear me, unwilling, where Castalia flows.
I love to weep, love the soft feast of grief,
Court mournful thoughts, nor ever wish relief;--
Sadness I woo, yet still the phantom flies,
And joy seduces, whilst I ask for sighs.
But Hymen frowns, and joy no longer cheers,
Weeping, I sink--Thalia drinks my tears:
He tears my heart; she my rapt soul inspires;
He chills with grief; she fills me with her fires.
Thus, Lucidorus! pass my distant hours--
By turns subdued, the slave of rival powers;
And thus hath nature in my little frame
Still various been, and variously the same.
My heart so keenly feels, 'twere death to live,
Did not bright spirits its strong sense relieve.
Through THESE capricious, desultory, gay,
As though I felt not, glides th' unconscious day;
Through THIS I droop, I sadden, and complain,
Dragging, with pensive steps, life's length'ning chain.
In blithesome mood "More Ways than One" had birth,
Offspring of brilliant morns, and eves of mirth;
The laughing muse in sprightliest vein was by,
And "quips, and cranks," lay lurking in her eye.
O! may her spirit from its pages dart,
Dance o'er your nerves, and live within your heart!
Where palms gigantic rear their tufted heads,
And nature in colossal vegetation spreads,
Where rich ananas court the Indian's eye,
And groves of citrons fan the fev'rish sky,
Where rattling canes around the riv'lets play,
And the centennial aloe drinks the day!
In their deep shades bid Lucidorus smile,
His heavy sense of distant hours beguile.
Bid him not think, because I gaily write,
That heavy hours to him, to me, are light;
My native spirits, bounding from repose,
Bear me, unwilling, where Castalia flows.
I love to weep, love the soft feast of grief,
Court mournful thoughts, nor ever wish relief;--
Sadness I woo, yet still the phantom flies,
And joy seduces, whilst I ask for sighs.
But Hymen frowns, and joy no longer cheers,
Weeping, I sink--Thalia drinks my tears:
He tears my heart; she my rapt soul inspires;
He chills with grief; she fills me with her fires.
Thus, Lucidorus! pass my distant hours--
By turns subdued, the slave of rival powers;
And thus hath nature in my little frame
Still various been, and variously the same.
My heart so keenly feels, 'twere death to live,
Did not bright spirits its strong sense relieve.
Through THESE capricious, desultory, gay,
As though I felt not, glides th' unconscious day;
Through THIS I droop, I sadden, and complain,
Dragging, with pensive steps, life's length'ning chain.
In blithesome mood "More Ways than One" had birth,
Offspring of brilliant morns, and eves of mirth;
The laughing muse in sprightliest vein was by,
And "quips, and cranks," lay lurking in her eye.
O! may her spirit from its pages dart,
Dance o'er your nerves, and live within your heart!
Categories
Provenance
Searching in HDIS (Drama)
Date of Entry
07/14/2004
Date of Review
06/09/2009
