"Thy taste ador'd, with Virtue's temperate flame, / Truth, as the fountain both of art and fame; / Yet no ill-founded rule, no servile fear, / Chain'd thy free mind in Fancy's fav'rite sphere."
— Hayley, William (1745-1820)
Author
Place of Publication
London
Publisher
Printed by A. Strahan ... for T. Cadell Jun. and W. Davies [etc.]
Date
1800
Metaphor
"Thy taste ador'd, with Virtue's temperate flame, / Truth, as the fountain both of art and fame; / Yet no ill-founded rule, no servile fear, / Chain'd thy free mind in Fancy's fav'rite sphere."
Metaphor in Context
Ever, Lysippus! be thy name rever'd,
By moral dignity of mind endear'd!
Glory, well-pleas'd, thy double worth beheld,
The matchless artist by the man excell'd;
Thy upright spirit, firm in manly sense,
Scorning to favour impious Pride's pretence,
Reprov'd thy friend Apelles, that he strove
To lavish lightning on a fancied Jove;
And to thy statue, rationally grand,
Gave the just weapon of a hero's hand.
Thy taste ador'd, with Virtue's temperate flame,
Truth, as the fountain both of art and fame;
Yet no ill-founded rule, no servile fear,
Chain'd thy free mind in Fancy's fav'rite sphere.
Thy dauntless thought, proportion for its guide,
From life's trite field each brave excursion tried:
Thy changeful genius, patient and acute,
Toil'd on colossal forms, or play'd with the minute;
And Nature own'd each work, with fond surprize,
True to her soul, though faithless to her size.
The hallow'd bulk of thy Tarentine Jove
Check'd the proud spoilers of each sacred grove;
Roman rapacity, in plunder's hour,
Paus'd, and rever'd the mighty sculptor's power.
By moral dignity of mind endear'd!
Glory, well-pleas'd, thy double worth beheld,
The matchless artist by the man excell'd;
Thy upright spirit, firm in manly sense,
Scorning to favour impious Pride's pretence,
Reprov'd thy friend Apelles, that he strove
To lavish lightning on a fancied Jove;
And to thy statue, rationally grand,
Gave the just weapon of a hero's hand.
Thy taste ador'd, with Virtue's temperate flame,
Truth, as the fountain both of art and fame;
Yet no ill-founded rule, no servile fear,
Chain'd thy free mind in Fancy's fav'rite sphere.
Thy dauntless thought, proportion for its guide,
From life's trite field each brave excursion tried:
Thy changeful genius, patient and acute,
Toil'd on colossal forms, or play'd with the minute;
And Nature own'd each work, with fond surprize,
True to her soul, though faithless to her size.
The hallow'd bulk of thy Tarentine Jove
Check'd the proud spoilers of each sacred grove;
Roman rapacity, in plunder's hour,
Paus'd, and rever'd the mighty sculptor's power.
Categories
Provenance
Searching "mind" and "chain" in HDIS (Poetry)
Date of Entry
07/15/2011
