"Oh let me now thy tender Mercy find, / With thy free Grace illuminate my Mind, / Let me no more the Slave of Passion be, / But turn my wand'ring Thoughts to Heav'n and thee."
— Masters, Mary (1694-1771)
Author
Place of Publication
London
Publisher
Printed for the Author
Date
1755
Metaphor
"Oh let me now thy tender Mercy find, / With thy free Grace illuminate my Mind, / Let me no more the Slave of Passion be, / But turn my wand'ring Thoughts to Heav'n and thee."
Metaphor in Context
O Pow'r Supreme! incline a gracious Ear,
And now accept my penitential Prayer:
After the many Days, which I must own,
Alas! unvalu'd, and unheeded gone;
After the many restless Nights I've spent,
In anxious Care, in raving Discontent,
Contending with a wild, a fierce Desire,
The Flame of Love, which set my Soul on Fire;
While Laura's Image only fill'd my Breast,
An Image I too fondly have caress'd;
Oh let me now thy tender Mercy find,
With thy free Grace illuminate my Mind,
Let me no more the Slave of Passion be,
But turn my wand'ring Thoughts to Heav'n and thee;
Then shall my cruel Foe, abash'd, recede,
Finding his artful Snares are vainly spread.
Of rolling Years, eleven are past in Pain,
Since I was doom'd to wear the galling Chain:
The Chain which am'rous Minds are forc'd to bear,
Still to the most Submissive, most severe.
On my degen'rate Sorrow Pity take,
And from the Maze of Error bring me back:
With noblest Objects all my Thoughts inspire,
Let him, alone, be all my Soul's Desire,
Who on this Day his Sacred Life resign'd,
And suffer'd on the Cross for lost Mankind.
And now accept my penitential Prayer:
After the many Days, which I must own,
Alas! unvalu'd, and unheeded gone;
After the many restless Nights I've spent,
In anxious Care, in raving Discontent,
Contending with a wild, a fierce Desire,
The Flame of Love, which set my Soul on Fire;
While Laura's Image only fill'd my Breast,
An Image I too fondly have caress'd;
Oh let me now thy tender Mercy find,
With thy free Grace illuminate my Mind,
Let me no more the Slave of Passion be,
But turn my wand'ring Thoughts to Heav'n and thee;
Then shall my cruel Foe, abash'd, recede,
Finding his artful Snares are vainly spread.
Of rolling Years, eleven are past in Pain,
Since I was doom'd to wear the galling Chain:
The Chain which am'rous Minds are forc'd to bear,
Still to the most Submissive, most severe.
On my degen'rate Sorrow Pity take,
And from the Maze of Error bring me back:
With noblest Objects all my Thoughts inspire,
Let him, alone, be all my Soul's Desire,
Who on this Day his Sacred Life resign'd,
And suffer'd on the Cross for lost Mankind.
Categories
Provenance
Searching in HDIS (Poetry)
Citation
Only 1 entry in ESTC (1755).
Familiar Letters and Poems on Several Occasions. by Mary Masters. (London: Printed for the author, by D. Henry and R. Cave, 1755). <Link to ESTC>
Familiar Letters and Poems on Several Occasions. by Mary Masters. (London: Printed for the author, by D. Henry and R. Cave, 1755). <Link to ESTC>
Date of Entry
07/18/2011
