"Her hazle eye, unfix'd and bright, / Dazzles with ever-changing light, / Like flames toss'd by the wind; / Now swimming in quick-passing sadness, / Now laughing in her soul's pure gladness, / The mirror of her mind"
— Mitford, Mary Russell (1787-1855)
Work Title
Place of Publication
London
Publisher
Printed by A. J. Valpy ... Sold by F. C. and J. Rivington [etc.]
Date
1811
Metaphor
"Her hazle eye, unfix'd and bright, / Dazzles with ever-changing light, / Like flames toss'd by the wind; / Now swimming in quick-passing sadness, / Now laughing in her soul's pure gladness, / The mirror of her mind"
Metaphor in Context
See'st thou yon girl quick dancing by,
Chacing the painted butterfly,
Unconscious of her power;
Little she recks of lover's sigh,
But sports away the hour.
Dwells Beauty in that frolic grace,
That airy bound, that playful race;
In look now saucy, and now meek;
In modesty's soft blushing cheek;
Now graceful woman, coy and mild,
Now all that charms us in the child?
Her hazle eye, unfix'd and bright,
Dazzles with ever-changing light,
Like flames toss'd by the wind;
Now swimming in quick-passing sadness,
Now laughing in her soul's pure gladness,
The mirror of her mind:
Her lips,--the smiles those lips that curl
Twin cherries seem to sever;
And those two rows of living pearl
Has Ceylon rival'd never.
She shakes her head, to clear the hair
That clusters o'er her brow so fair;
And the quick motion wakes the grace
That dimples o'er that playful face;
Her lightning glance, her blush, her smile,
Would force old age to gaze awhile,
Would misery's sigh repress:
None can define the witching spell;
If it be Beauty none can tell;
All feel 'tis loveliness.--
And what is Beauty but the power
To steal the soul away?
And what so fair as Beauty's flower,
Lit, Genius, by thy ray?
Chacing the painted butterfly,
Unconscious of her power;
Little she recks of lover's sigh,
But sports away the hour.
Dwells Beauty in that frolic grace,
That airy bound, that playful race;
In look now saucy, and now meek;
In modesty's soft blushing cheek;
Now graceful woman, coy and mild,
Now all that charms us in the child?
Her hazle eye, unfix'd and bright,
Dazzles with ever-changing light,
Like flames toss'd by the wind;
Now swimming in quick-passing sadness,
Now laughing in her soul's pure gladness,
The mirror of her mind:
Her lips,--the smiles those lips that curl
Twin cherries seem to sever;
And those two rows of living pearl
Has Ceylon rival'd never.
She shakes her head, to clear the hair
That clusters o'er her brow so fair;
And the quick motion wakes the grace
That dimples o'er that playful face;
Her lightning glance, her blush, her smile,
Would force old age to gaze awhile,
Would misery's sigh repress:
None can define the witching spell;
If it be Beauty none can tell;
All feel 'tis loveliness.--
And what is Beauty but the power
To steal the soul away?
And what so fair as Beauty's flower,
Lit, Genius, by thy ray?
Categories
Provenance
Searching "mind" and "mirror" in HDIS (Poetry); found again "soul"
Date of Entry
10/10/2005
