"His Mother, like the smooth reflecting stream, / Show'd every shadowy cloud; or glowing gleam-- ... Letting her tranquil bosom humbly lie, / To catch impressions from the purer sky!
— Woodhouse, James (bap. 1735, d. 1820)
Work Title
Date
1814, 1816, 1896
Metaphor
"His Mother, like the smooth reflecting stream, / Show'd every shadowy cloud; or glowing gleam-- ... Letting her tranquil bosom humbly lie, / To catch impressions from the purer sky!
Metaphor in Context
Crispinus' Parents, true Preceptors! taught,
No flying Happiness could e'er be caught;
Nor by sham precept, or example, show'd
Bliss might be found in Vice's wretched road!
Prov'd Lust, nor Passion, Consolations claim--
Nor impious Pow'r--nor noisey, fleeting, Fame--
Nor transient Riches could command their stay,
Which fit themselves with wings, and flee away!
Bright, as in mirrors, obvious to his view,
What-e'er was simple--pious--just--and true,
His Parents held, by fair Examples, forth,
In tender kindness, and true Wisdom's worth.
His Father's footsteps never turn'd aside,
From Faith, or Truth, to favour Lust, or Pride.
His calm Integrity, and Courage, stood
Like the tall Monarch of his native wood;
Maintaining still its firmness, and its form,
Thro' Spring's fond soothings, and fierce wintry storm!
Not vent'ring Virtue's Dignity to bend,
For silly flattery, or for selfish end;
Nor let fair Character, or Conscience, go,
To gratify a Friend, or grieve a Foe;
But following Faith's and Providence's, plan,
Liv'd the Believer--died the duteous Man!
His Mother, like the smooth reflecting stream,
Show'd every shadowy cloud; or glowing gleam--
With passive swell, by every breeze, impress'd,
But soon sunk, gently, down, to silent rest;
No trace retraining of impressions past,
From Pride's perturbings, or strong Passion's blast--
Reflecting, still, from surface calm, and clear,
The nicest semblance of each object near;
Letting her tranquil bosom humbly lie,
To catch impressions from the purer sky!
His Friends, tho' frail, like all the human Race,
Instill'd no stimulants, by conduct base,
From whence his Mind might fashion weak excuse;
For turning talents to some bold abuse;
Or try those tracks which lead unwary Youth,
From paths of Justice, Probity, and Truth.
He, from their practice, and experience, saw
Where Prudence drew the line of Wisdom's Law,
That right-lin'd road each Christian strives to tread,
Trod full, before, by Christ their Kingly Head!
Which wins their feet from every vicious way,
Where Lust might lure, or Vanity betray;
And guides to that secure, and solid, ground,
Where Consolation can alone be found!
They never drew him to the hateful haunts,
Where Luxury riots, or Seduction chaunts.
Ne'er false distinctions taught him to assume
From fluttering ribband, or proud nodding plume.
Ne'er wrapp'd his frame in rich fantastic stole,
To turn, on trifles, his aspiring Soul;
Prompting to hope respect from vain Attire,
Which only Fops admit, and Fools admire!
Taught Passions rabble-rout, suborn'd by Pride,
Ne'er let Heav'n's blessings in loose hearts abide;
Nor lures produc'd by lustful Appetites,
Could furnish pure, and permanent, delights--
That Faith--Hope--pious Love, alone, could yield
The Christian's buckler--The Believer's shield;
Peace, Consolation, and Content, supply,
All present happiness--all future Joy!
No flying Happiness could e'er be caught;
Nor by sham precept, or example, show'd
Bliss might be found in Vice's wretched road!
Prov'd Lust, nor Passion, Consolations claim--
Nor impious Pow'r--nor noisey, fleeting, Fame--
Nor transient Riches could command their stay,
Which fit themselves with wings, and flee away!
Bright, as in mirrors, obvious to his view,
What-e'er was simple--pious--just--and true,
His Parents held, by fair Examples, forth,
In tender kindness, and true Wisdom's worth.
His Father's footsteps never turn'd aside,
From Faith, or Truth, to favour Lust, or Pride.
His calm Integrity, and Courage, stood
Like the tall Monarch of his native wood;
Maintaining still its firmness, and its form,
Thro' Spring's fond soothings, and fierce wintry storm!
Not vent'ring Virtue's Dignity to bend,
For silly flattery, or for selfish end;
Nor let fair Character, or Conscience, go,
To gratify a Friend, or grieve a Foe;
But following Faith's and Providence's, plan,
Liv'd the Believer--died the duteous Man!
His Mother, like the smooth reflecting stream,
Show'd every shadowy cloud; or glowing gleam--
With passive swell, by every breeze, impress'd,
But soon sunk, gently, down, to silent rest;
No trace retraining of impressions past,
From Pride's perturbings, or strong Passion's blast--
Reflecting, still, from surface calm, and clear,
The nicest semblance of each object near;
Letting her tranquil bosom humbly lie,
To catch impressions from the purer sky!
His Friends, tho' frail, like all the human Race,
Instill'd no stimulants, by conduct base,
From whence his Mind might fashion weak excuse;
For turning talents to some bold abuse;
Or try those tracks which lead unwary Youth,
From paths of Justice, Probity, and Truth.
He, from their practice, and experience, saw
Where Prudence drew the line of Wisdom's Law,
That right-lin'd road each Christian strives to tread,
Trod full, before, by Christ their Kingly Head!
Which wins their feet from every vicious way,
Where Lust might lure, or Vanity betray;
And guides to that secure, and solid, ground,
Where Consolation can alone be found!
They never drew him to the hateful haunts,
Where Luxury riots, or Seduction chaunts.
Ne'er false distinctions taught him to assume
From fluttering ribband, or proud nodding plume.
Ne'er wrapp'd his frame in rich fantastic stole,
To turn, on trifles, his aspiring Soul;
Prompting to hope respect from vain Attire,
Which only Fops admit, and Fools admire!
Taught Passions rabble-rout, suborn'd by Pride,
Ne'er let Heav'n's blessings in loose hearts abide;
Nor lures produc'd by lustful Appetites,
Could furnish pure, and permanent, delights--
That Faith--Hope--pious Love, alone, could yield
The Christian's buckler--The Believer's shield;
Peace, Consolation, and Content, supply,
All present happiness--all future Joy!
Categories
Provenance
Searching "bosom" and "impression" in HDIS (Poetry)
Citation
Poem first published in its entirety in 1896. The 1814 first edition receives notice in The New Monthly Magazine (March 1815); the poem was written "in the last century" (w. 1795-1820?).
Text from The Life and Poetical Works of James Woodhouse, ed. R. I. Woodhouse, 2 vols. (London: The Leadenhall Press, 1896). <Link to Hathi Trust> <Link to LION>
Text from The Life and Poetical Works of James Woodhouse, ed. R. I. Woodhouse, 2 vols. (London: The Leadenhall Press, 1896). <Link to Hathi Trust> <Link to LION>
Date of Entry
05/20/2005
