A wife chosen from "the coarse, what groveling brood" will be in thought "barren and in speech how rude"
— Whyte, Samuel (1733-1811)
Author
Place of Publication
Dublin
Publisher
Robert Marchbank
Date
1792 [1794]
Metaphor
A wife chosen from "the coarse, what groveling brood" will be in thought "barren and in speech how rude"
Metaphor in Context
All polished circles for amusement look,
Those deal out scandal, these prefer a book,
And mixing with the grave, the young and gay,
Lay by the sampler for a moral play.
Can this, knows any here? the science hurt
Of pudding manufacture, or of shirt?
Must every social virtue be effac'd,
To plant a needle, and to shine in paste?
And yet what husband blushes to give raps
At lectures upon handkerchiefs and caps?
Zounds! cries Sir Nob! and on his chair he shuffles,
Your head's an auction-room of gauze and ruffles,
And that loquacious clack, which never tires,
Is fit for nothing but to call in buyers.
Such are the contradictions that we meet
In man, so wise! so knowing and discreet!
If female minds are uninform'd and blank,
Whom, lordly sirs! are female tongues to thank?
And if they thunder nonsense in your ears,
Why for such paltry talents choose your dears?
If you no higher excellence can brook,
Go wed at once your sempstress or your cook:
No matter of what coarse, what groveling brood,
In thought how barren and in speech how rude,
You get a nurse, and have your tables grac'd,
Indulge your pride, and show the world your taste!
And when to pinch your destiny begins,
She'll darn your stockings, or she'll rub your shins:--
Cursing your blindness, then you'll feel at least,
Wherein the Angel differs from the beast.
Those deal out scandal, these prefer a book,
And mixing with the grave, the young and gay,
Lay by the sampler for a moral play.
Can this, knows any here? the science hurt
Of pudding manufacture, or of shirt?
Must every social virtue be effac'd,
To plant a needle, and to shine in paste?
And yet what husband blushes to give raps
At lectures upon handkerchiefs and caps?
Zounds! cries Sir Nob! and on his chair he shuffles,
Your head's an auction-room of gauze and ruffles,
And that loquacious clack, which never tires,
Is fit for nothing but to call in buyers.
Such are the contradictions that we meet
In man, so wise! so knowing and discreet!
If female minds are uninform'd and blank,
Whom, lordly sirs! are female tongues to thank?
And if they thunder nonsense in your ears,
Why for such paltry talents choose your dears?
If you no higher excellence can brook,
Go wed at once your sempstress or your cook:
No matter of what coarse, what groveling brood,
In thought how barren and in speech how rude,
You get a nurse, and have your tables grac'd,
Indulge your pride, and show the world your taste!
And when to pinch your destiny begins,
She'll darn your stockings, or she'll rub your shins:--
Cursing your blindness, then you'll feel at least,
Wherein the Angel differs from the beast.
Categories
Provenance
Searching "mind" and "blank" in HDIS (Poetry)
Citation
Only 1 entry in ESTC (1792).
A Collection of Poems on Various Subjects, Including the Theatre, a Didactic Essay; in the Course of Which Are Pointed out, the Rocks and Shoals to Which Deluded Adventurers Are Inevitably Exposed. Ornamented With Cuts and Illustrated With Notes, Original Letters and Curious Incidental Anecdotes (Dublin: Robert Marchbank, 1792). <Link to ESTC><Link to ECCO>
A Collection of Poems on Various Subjects, Including the Theatre, a Didactic Essay; in the Course of Which Are Pointed out, the Rocks and Shoals to Which Deluded Adventurers Are Inevitably Exposed. Ornamented With Cuts and Illustrated With Notes, Original Letters and Curious Incidental Anecdotes (Dublin: Robert Marchbank, 1792). <Link to ESTC><Link to ECCO>
Date of Entry
03/07/2005
