"I thought to see Dan. Pope a swan, / After his soul had done with man; / And many a tuneful soul, in love, / Cooing soft couplets in a dove; / Huge elephants I thought to find / The lodgings of the learned mind; / Pindar's pure soul in Eagle mould, / And Gray's on the same perch of gold; / Hammond, a turtle should appear, / And Swift, in Satyr shape, be here."
— Pratt, Samuel Jackson [pseud. Courtney Melmoth] (1749-1814)
Work Title
Place of Publication
London
Publisher
Printed for T. Becket [etc.
Date
1785
Metaphor
"I thought to see Dan. Pope a swan, / After his soul had done with man; / And many a tuneful soul, in love, / Cooing soft couplets in a dove; / Huge elephants I thought to find / The lodgings of the learned mind; / Pindar's pure soul in Eagle mould, / And Gray's on the same perch of gold; / Hammond, a turtle should appear, / And Swift, in Satyr shape, be here."
Metaphor in Context
Behold! Pythagoras appears,
The pride of nature's earlier years
Near him the heavenly harp we find,
With which each morn he sooth'd his mind
His golden verses grace his hand,
And there the Samean sages stand;
Th' Italic sect you there behold
Vers'd in the lore we now unfold.
But wherefore these in human shape?
Why not in eagle, emmet, ape?
These still are men; have hands, have feet!
Who hath the system overset?
I thought (and so good folks did you
I see you wonder as you view)
I thought the book worm's shifted soul
Might take apartments in an owl:
I thought to see Dan. Pope a swan,
After his soul had done with man;
And many a tuneful soul, in love,
Cooing soft couplets in a dove;
Huge elephants I thought to find
The lodgings of the learned mind;
Pindar's pure soul in Eagle mould,
And Gray's on the same perch of gold;
Hammond, a turtle should appear,
And Swift, in Satyr shape, be here:
Sages, turn'd moths, I hop'd to meet,
Fix'd still to literary treat;
Tuck'd snug betwixt the leaves where lie,
These grubs of old philosophy.
The pride of nature's earlier years
Near him the heavenly harp we find,
With which each morn he sooth'd his mind
His golden verses grace his hand,
And there the Samean sages stand;
Th' Italic sect you there behold
Vers'd in the lore we now unfold.
But wherefore these in human shape?
Why not in eagle, emmet, ape?
These still are men; have hands, have feet!
Who hath the system overset?
I thought (and so good folks did you
I see you wonder as you view)
I thought the book worm's shifted soul
Might take apartments in an owl:
I thought to see Dan. Pope a swan,
After his soul had done with man;
And many a tuneful soul, in love,
Cooing soft couplets in a dove;
Huge elephants I thought to find
The lodgings of the learned mind;
Pindar's pure soul in Eagle mould,
And Gray's on the same perch of gold;
Hammond, a turtle should appear,
And Swift, in Satyr shape, be here:
Sages, turn'd moths, I hop'd to meet,
Fix'd still to literary treat;
Tuck'd snug betwixt the leaves where lie,
These grubs of old philosophy.
Categories
Provenance
Searching in HDIS (Poetry)
Theme
Metempsychosis
Date of Entry
02/14/2005
