"In his soul's mirror Ellen had grown dim, / And yet she was unchanged--though not for him!"
— Moir, David Macbeth (1798-1851)
Place of Publication
London; Edinburgh
Publisher
William Blackwood
Date
1824
Metaphor
"In his soul's mirror Ellen had grown dim, / And yet she was unchanged--though not for him!"
Metaphor in Context
Alas! how time, and absence, and mankind,
Impart their colours, and corrupt the mind!
All dream that they are faithful, but how few
Are to their promise firm, their honour true;
Change not with Fortune's breath, and stand through years,
Beyond the range of fickleness and fears.
He was not what he had been--nor was she--
At least within his soul so reckon'd he;
She had not now that place within his mind,
Whose holy bounds from worldly dross refined,
Was purified to loveliness, and made
A light to which the sunshine was like shade:
She seem'd not now, as she had been of yore,
A form to which the earth no likeness bore;
She was not now the soul of his delight,
His earliest thought at morn, his last at night;
The spell, whose name, when utter'd, could impart
The thrill of rapture to his conscious heart:--
In his soul's mirror Ellen had grown dim,
And yet she was unchanged--though not for him!--
Like one who gazes with profound delight
Upon the landscape on a lovely night,
A thousand beauties blended, as the beam
Plays on the hill, the forest, and the stream,
How beautiful! then upward turns his eye
To the moon that cloudless traverses the sky--
Lo! the sight dazzles, and the scenes below
Have lost their lustre, and forget to glow!
Impart their colours, and corrupt the mind!
All dream that they are faithful, but how few
Are to their promise firm, their honour true;
Change not with Fortune's breath, and stand through years,
Beyond the range of fickleness and fears.
He was not what he had been--nor was she--
At least within his soul so reckon'd he;
She had not now that place within his mind,
Whose holy bounds from worldly dross refined,
Was purified to loveliness, and made
A light to which the sunshine was like shade:
She seem'd not now, as she had been of yore,
A form to which the earth no likeness bore;
She was not now the soul of his delight,
His earliest thought at morn, his last at night;
The spell, whose name, when utter'd, could impart
The thrill of rapture to his conscious heart:--
In his soul's mirror Ellen had grown dim,
And yet she was unchanged--though not for him!--
Like one who gazes with profound delight
Upon the landscape on a lovely night,
A thousand beauties blended, as the beam
Plays on the hill, the forest, and the stream,
How beautiful! then upward turns his eye
To the moon that cloudless traverses the sky--
Lo! the sight dazzles, and the scenes below
Have lost their lustre, and forget to glow!
Categories
Provenance
Searching "soul"and "mirror" in HDIS (ec19 Poetry)
Date of Entry
12/14/2005
