"As Reason, fairest daughter of the skies, / Explor'd the vale, where mortal mis'ry lies; / Led on by fortitude, with eye serene, / She mark'd each object of the varying scene."

— Robinson [Née Darby], Mary [Perdita] (1758-1800)


Work Title
Place of Publication
London
Date
1791, 1806
Metaphor
"As Reason, fairest daughter of the skies, / Explor'd the vale, where mortal mis'ry lies; / Led on by fortitude, with eye serene, / She mark'd each object of the varying scene."
Metaphor in Context
As Reason, fairest daughter of the skies,
  Explor'd the vale, where mortal mis'ry lies;
  Led on by fortitude, with eye serene,
  She mark'd each object of the varying scene;
  In every maze of busy life she found
  Some hidden snare, some agonizing wound;
  For each her hand display'd a precious balm,
  Whose pow'r divine the tortur'd soul could calm;
  Till midway, on a rock of dreadful height,
The Cave of cureless woe assail'd her wond'ring sight!

    On the bleak threshold, with'ring and forlorn,
  Heart-wounded Melancholy sat reclin'd!
    The rude blast scatter'd her dishevell'd hair;
  Round her cold brow the deadly nightshade twin'd!
    Near, on a craggy point, stood wild despair,
  Whose pangs supreme all lesser miseries scorn!
    And as the gaunt tormentor, smiling, view'd
    The pensive child of Sorrow, soul-subdu'd;
    With taunting mien, she beckon'd from below
The fierce, relentless bands of desolating woe!

    First, swift as lightning up the flinty steep
  Impatience flew, barefooted, out of breath;
    Scorning the perils of the dreadful sweep;
  Heedless of wounding thorns, and threat'ning Death.
    Eager to rush the foremost of the train,
    She fear'd not danger, and she felt not pain:
    With longing eye she view'd the tow'ring height;
    From peak to peak, quick climbing with delight,
    She pass'd the fatal cave; then turning short,
Fell headlong from the rock, of ev'ry fiend the sport!

    Then horror darted forth, in wild amaze!
  Her hair erect, with pois'nous hemlock bound;
  Her straining eye-balls flashing fires around,
    While nature trembled at her potent gaze!
  Swift to the dizzy precipice she flew,
    As, aiming with impetuous force to throw
    Her giant form amidst the gulph below!
    When, from an ivy'd nook obscure, pale fear
    Peep'd forth, slow whisp'ring to her startled ear,
"Think not the pow'r of death thy mis'ries will subdue!"

    Then Horror bent her blood-shot eyes below,
  Where, by a group of demons compass'd round,
  Lay suicide accurs'd! from many a wound
    On his bare bosom did life's fountain flow!
  Now shame, with cheeks by burning blushes fir'd,
  And skulking Cowardice, in haste retir'd!
  While conscience plac'd beneath his fev'rish head
  A pillow dire, with thorns and nettles spread;
  And guilt, with all the scorpions of her train,
  Oped to his fainting eyes eternity of Pain!

    Then luxury approach'd on couch of down!
  Drawn by her offspring, folly and disease,
    Flush'd Pleasure decking her with roseate crown,
  And bow'd obedience, ever prone to please,
    Waiting her nod! languid she seemed, and pale,
  Restless, and sated with voluptuous fare;
  Beside her pillow, hung with trappings rare,
  Stood trembling palsy, ready to assail;
  And writhing agony, and slow decay,
And hood-winked vice abhorr'd, that shunn'd the eye of day.

    Next, with a solemn, slow, and feeble pace,
  Came silent poverty, in tatter'd vest!
  The frequent tears, that glisten'd on her breast,
    Had fretted channels down her meagre face!
  A rabble crew of idiots dinn'd her ear:
  While mean reproach came smiling in the rear.
    With firm, yet modest look, she pass'd along;
    Nor sought relief, nor mark'd the taunting throng;
    While her wrung heart, still scorning to complain,
Suppress'd the rending groan, and throbb'd with proud disdain.

    Close at her heels, insidious envy crept;
  The imp, deform'd and horrible in shape,
    Mock'd, when the slow-consuming victim wept,
  Pointing, and grinning, like a wither'd ape:
    About her throat, the asp detraction clung,
    Scatt'ring destructive poisons from her tongue!
    She wav'd a blasted laurel o'er her head,
    Stol'n from the sacred ashes of the dead;
    Inly she pin'd; while in her panting breast,
Shrunk ignorance struck its fangs, to banish gentle rest.

    In a lone corner, almost hid in shade,
  With downcast eye, sat unrequited love!
    As from their hollow cell the slow tears stray'd,
  A willow garland for his brow he wove!
    Low at his feet, bare Madness laid his head,
    Rattling his chains, upon his flinty bed!
    Rous'd from his stupor by the clanking sound,
    The pensive youth gaz'd fearfully around;
    And wond'ring to behold such mis'ry near,
Forgot his mournful wreath, and dropp'd a pitying tear.

    Now, lab'ring up the flinty winding road,
  Laden with treasure, bending to the ground,
    Appear'd lean avarice! the pond'rous load
  Seem'd his weak shoulders every step to wound:
    One thread-bare garb hung on his aged form;
    Scant covering from the bleak and wintry storm!
    Before him famine went, a thing decay'd;
    And dark suspicion, grasping at a shade!
    While fraud, low crawling, mock'd the reptile's art,
Pilfer'd the scatter'd gold, and wrung the miser's heart!

    Next came deceit, with smooth and fawning tongue,
  Glozing with praises every thing debas'd;
    To shield her breast, a flattering mirror hung;
  A tinsel zone shone dazzling round her waist!
    Her hand, conceal'd beneath her flimsy vest,
  Clasp'd a keen dagger, ready to destroy;
    Content she seem'd, though, in her cunning breast,
  Her coward soul shrunk from the touch of joy;
    Her humble voice the list'ning ear beguil'd,
While, with infernal art, she murder'd as she smil'd.

    Now through the cavern rush'd with iron hand
  Oppression insolent! his arm he rais'd,
    Waving his spear, with absolute command,
  While ev'ry subject fiend retir'd, amaz'd!
    At awful distance, trembling, prostrate round,
    The sons of pining slav'ry kiss'd the ground;
  Till, darting forward, o'er the abject crowd,
  With voice exulting, menacing, and loud,
    Insatiate vengeance snatch'd the up-rais'd lance,
While bold oppression's arm fell nerveless at his glance.

    Next Pride came forward, gorgeously array'd;
  His brow a starry wreath of gems compress'd;
    In his right hand a sceptre he display'd;
  A robe of costly ermine wrapp'd his breast!
    Enthron'd, sublime, above the wond'ring race,
    Immortal beauties seem'd to deck his face!
    His eye assum'd pre-eminence of sway;
    He reign'd the gilded idol of the day;
    Till death, his dread supremacy to shew,
Struck at the vaunting wretch, and laid his sceptre low.

    Now, rattling o'er the teeming plains afar,
    Came glitt'ring wealth, in his resplendent car!
    His rapid course swift-footed Toil pursu'd
  With sinewy limbs, and brown sun-freckled breast;
    The lord of luxury his vassal view'd,
  And, smiling, lifted high his haughty crest!
    But, when neglected toil at length retir'd,
    The short-liv'd glories of his brow expir'd;
    Around his eager eyes he roll'd in vain;
Ingratitude appear'd, and claim'd her turn to reign!

    At her approach, the fatal cavern rung:
  Loud shouts of horror rent the vaulted stone!
    All lesser Fiends their heads in sorrow hung;
  Omnipotent in ill, she grasp'd the infernal throne!
    Then reason mark'd her blest associate fly;
And shudd'ring at the scene, re-sought her native sky!
Categories
Provenance
HDIS
Citation
Text from The Poetical Works of the Late Mrs Mary Robinson: Including Many Pieces Never Before Published. 3 vols. (London: Printed for Richard Phillips, 1806). <Link to vol. I in Google Books><Vol. II><Vol. III>

See Poems by Mrs. M. Robinson. 2 vols. (London: Printed by T. Spilsbury and Son, 1791). Link to ECCO>
Date of Entry
07/27/2004
Date of Review
06/09/2009

The Mind is a Metaphor is authored by Brad Pasanek, Assistant Professor of English, University of Virginia.