"Thy skill my elemental Clay refin'd, / The straggling Parts in beauteous Order join'd, / With perfect Symmetry compos'd the whole, / And stampt thy sacred Image on my Soul."
— Carter, Elizabeth (1717-1806)
Place of Publication
London
Publisher
Edward Cave
Date
1738
Metaphor
"Thy skill my elemental Clay refin'd, / The straggling Parts in beauteous Order join'd, / With perfect Symmetry compos'd the whole, / And stampt thy sacred Image on my Soul."
Metaphor in Context
Thou Pow’r supreme! by whose command I live,
The grateful Tribute of my Praise receive:
To thy indulgence I my being owe,
And all the joys which from that being flow.
Scarce eighteen Suns have form'd the rolling Year,
And run their destined Courses round this Sphere,
Since thou my undistinguish'd Frame survey'd
Among the lifeless Heaps of Matter laid.
Thy skill my elemental Clay refin'd,
The straggling Parts in beauteous Order join'd,
With perfect Symmetry compos'd the whole,
And stampt thy sacred Image on my Soul;
A Soul susceptible of endless Joy,
Whose Frame nor Force nor Time can e'er destroy,
But shall subsist when Nature claims my Breath,
And bid Defiance to the Pow'r of Death,
To Realms of Bliss with active Freedom soar,
And live when Earth and Skies shall be no more.
Indulgent God! in vain my Tongue essays,
For this immortal Gift to speak thy Praise.
How shall my Heart its grateful Sense reveal,
Where all the Energy of Words must fail?
(ll. 1-22, pp. 3-4)
The grateful Tribute of my Praise receive:
To thy indulgence I my being owe,
And all the joys which from that being flow.
Scarce eighteen Suns have form'd the rolling Year,
And run their destined Courses round this Sphere,
Since thou my undistinguish'd Frame survey'd
Among the lifeless Heaps of Matter laid.
Thy skill my elemental Clay refin'd,
The straggling Parts in beauteous Order join'd,
With perfect Symmetry compos'd the whole,
And stampt thy sacred Image on my Soul;
A Soul susceptible of endless Joy,
Whose Frame nor Force nor Time can e'er destroy,
But shall subsist when Nature claims my Breath,
And bid Defiance to the Pow'r of Death,
To Realms of Bliss with active Freedom soar,
And live when Earth and Skies shall be no more.
Indulgent God! in vain my Tongue essays,
For this immortal Gift to speak thy Praise.
How shall my Heart its grateful Sense reveal,
Where all the Energy of Words must fail?
(ll. 1-22, pp. 3-4)
Categories
Provenance
Reading
Citation
Elizabeth Carter, Poems on Particular Occasions (London, 1738). <Link to ECCO>
See also Elizabeth Carter, Memoirs of the Life of Mrs. Elizabeth Carter, with a New Edition of her Poems, Ed. Montagu Pennington, 2 vols. (London: F.C. and J. Rivington, 1816). <Link to WWO><Link to Internet Archive>
See also Elizabeth Carter, Memoirs of the Life of Mrs. Elizabeth Carter, with a New Edition of her Poems, Ed. Montagu Pennington, 2 vols. (London: F.C. and J. Rivington, 1816). <Link to WWO><Link to Internet Archive>
Date of Entry
06/23/2011
