One may be a "groveling slave of sense" (e.g., a miser or a epicure)
— Combe, William (1742 -1823)
Author
Place of Publication
London
Publisher
Printed by J. Diggens ... Published at R. Ackermann's Repository of Arts [etc.]
Date
1815
Metaphor
One may be a "groveling slave of sense" (e.g., a miser or a epicure)
Metaphor in Context
AMONG those vices which the Law
Does not controul or keep in awe,
Which look not to the grave intent
Of any Act of Parliament;
Are subject to no other rule
Than what is taught in Reason's school,
But, straying from her general plan,
Degrade the character of Man;
Among them all, who can descry
A vice more mean than Gluttony?
Of any groveling slave of sense,
Not one can claim so small pretence
To that indulgence which the wise
Allow to human frailties,
As the inglorious, beastly sinner,
Whose only object is--a dinner.
The Miser, who heaps up his store,
May prove a Treasurer for the poor;
And, by his avarice, prepare
The funds by which his gen'rous heir
Can, with unbounded grace, impart
The kindness of a feeling heart.
--The thoughtless, but the jovial souls,
Who pleasure find in flowing bowls,
Enjoy the day, or pass the nights
In Bacchanalian delights:--
Though their excesses do not give
The happiness for which we live:
Yet, round their table mirth prevails,
And Humour laughs, though Reason fails.
Does not controul or keep in awe,
Which look not to the grave intent
Of any Act of Parliament;
Are subject to no other rule
Than what is taught in Reason's school,
But, straying from her general plan,
Degrade the character of Man;
Among them all, who can descry
A vice more mean than Gluttony?
Of any groveling slave of sense,
Not one can claim so small pretence
To that indulgence which the wise
Allow to human frailties,
As the inglorious, beastly sinner,
Whose only object is--a dinner.
The Miser, who heaps up his store,
May prove a Treasurer for the poor;
And, by his avarice, prepare
The funds by which his gen'rous heir
Can, with unbounded grace, impart
The kindness of a feeling heart.
--The thoughtless, but the jovial souls,
Who pleasure find in flowing bowls,
Enjoy the day, or pass the nights
In Bacchanalian delights:--
Though their excesses do not give
The happiness for which we live:
Yet, round their table mirth prevails,
And Humour laughs, though Reason fails.
Categories
Provenance
Searching HDIS (Poetry)
Date of Entry
06/15/2004