"Can Mammon's votaries vainly hope to bind, / In shining shackles, his immortal Mind?"
— Woodhouse, James (bap. 1735, d. 1820)
Publisher
Symonds
Date
w. 1789, 1804
Metaphor
"Can Mammon's votaries vainly hope to bind, / In shining shackles, his immortal Mind?"
Metaphor in Context
Can arbitrary influence e'er controul
The in-born bias of Man's soaring Soul?
Can Mammon's votaries vainly hope to bind,
In shining shackles, his immortal Mind?
Put on some tinkling bells, and tinsel chains,
And hope he'll trudge with joy, 'mid griefs and pains?
Hope, tho' degraded to Man's meanest shape,
'Mid scoff and ridicule he'll act the ape?
That prison'd Minds will cease to pine, and mope,
'Tis Fools' absurd philosophism to hope.
Not bulls from Popes, or warrants back'd by Kings,
The Martyr's burning piles, or Miscreants' strings,
Can faithful Souls by fear, or force, subdue,
Who know their crimes are cross'd, and Heav'n is true--
For tho' imperious Popes, or Kings, may kill,
No earthly pow'r can bind the free-born Will:
'Tis like the thwarting elements at strife,
Or adverse interests torturing Man and Wife--
'Tis oil with water join'd, or fire with phlegm,
What Dolt would ever dream of mixing them?
Sooner might foolish Coachman hope to force,
The kind esteem of beaten, batter'd, horse--
Or pert Postilion, mad with megrims, think,
By whips and wales to make the creature drink:
I may by dint of discipline, compel
The fear-struck animal to travel well,
But never can by any force, or fright,
Produce pure love, or prompt an appetite.
The in-born bias of Man's soaring Soul?
Can Mammon's votaries vainly hope to bind,
In shining shackles, his immortal Mind?
Put on some tinkling bells, and tinsel chains,
And hope he'll trudge with joy, 'mid griefs and pains?
Hope, tho' degraded to Man's meanest shape,
'Mid scoff and ridicule he'll act the ape?
That prison'd Minds will cease to pine, and mope,
'Tis Fools' absurd philosophism to hope.
Not bulls from Popes, or warrants back'd by Kings,
The Martyr's burning piles, or Miscreants' strings,
Can faithful Souls by fear, or force, subdue,
Who know their crimes are cross'd, and Heav'n is true--
For tho' imperious Popes, or Kings, may kill,
No earthly pow'r can bind the free-born Will:
'Tis like the thwarting elements at strife,
Or adverse interests torturing Man and Wife--
'Tis oil with water join'd, or fire with phlegm,
What Dolt would ever dream of mixing them?
Sooner might foolish Coachman hope to force,
The kind esteem of beaten, batter'd, horse--
Or pert Postilion, mad with megrims, think,
By whips and wales to make the creature drink:
I may by dint of discipline, compel
The fear-struck animal to travel well,
But never can by any force, or fright,
Produce pure love, or prompt an appetite.
Categories
Provenance
Searching "mind" and "chain" in HDIS (Poetry)
Citation
Text from The Life and Poetical Works of James Woodhouse, ed. R. I. Woodhouse, 2 vols. (London: The Leadenhall Press, 1896). <Link to Hathi Trust> <Link to LION>
Date of Entry
07/20/2011
