"While Vanity unveils her whiffling flags, / Her glittering trinkets, and her tawdry rags-- / Spreads spangled nets, and fills her philter'd bowl, / To fix each Sense, and fascinate the Soul-- / Her birdlime twigs contrived with such sly Art, / That while they tangle thoughts, they trap the heart, / Thus to impair her strength, and spoil her wings, / No more to mount o'er temporary things, / But, drunk with spurious Pleasure--cag'd in State-- / Forego true Freedom, and forget her Fate!"
— Woodhouse, James (bap. 1735, d. 1820)
Date
w. 1789, 1804
Metaphor
"While Vanity unveils her whiffling flags, / Her glittering trinkets, and her tawdry rags-- / Spreads spangled nets, and fills her philter'd bowl, / To fix each Sense, and fascinate the Soul-- / Her birdlime twigs contrived with such sly Art, / That while they tangle thoughts, they trap the heart, / Thus to impair her strength, and spoil her wings, / No more to mount o'er temporary things, / But, drunk with spurious Pleasure--cag'd in State-- / Forego true Freedom, and forget her Fate!"
Metaphor in Context
What can such treasonable crimes atone,
Usurping, thus, their heavenly Sovereign's throne?
'Tis sacrilege; and Heav'n resents the wrongs,
When Creatures challenge what to Christ belongs!
'Tis Image-worship when a Mortal's shewn
The honours that pertain to God alone!
And are not such offences ever found,
In graceless Grandeur's fashionable round?
For is not all its glitter--all its gold--
Form'd into Images with Fancy's mould?
And tho' the Idol be a Knave or Fool,
When finish'd nice with Fashion's graving tool,
The reverence paid looks more or less divine,
In due proportion to the shew and shine.
All's calculated by the glow, and glare--
Frail, short-liv'd things their full affection share--
While Vanity unveils her whiffling flags,
Her glittering trinkets, and her tawdry rags--
Spreads spangled nets, and fills her philter'd bowl,
To fix each Sense, and fascinate the Soul--
Her birdlime twigs contrived with such sly Art,
That while they tangle thoughts, they trap the heart,
Thus to impair her strength, and spoil her wings,
No more to mount o'er temporary things,
But, drunk with spurious Pleasure--cag'd in State--
Forego true Freedom, and forget her Fate!
Usurping, thus, their heavenly Sovereign's throne?
'Tis sacrilege; and Heav'n resents the wrongs,
When Creatures challenge what to Christ belongs!
'Tis Image-worship when a Mortal's shewn
The honours that pertain to God alone!
And are not such offences ever found,
In graceless Grandeur's fashionable round?
For is not all its glitter--all its gold--
Form'd into Images with Fancy's mould?
And tho' the Idol be a Knave or Fool,
When finish'd nice with Fashion's graving tool,
The reverence paid looks more or less divine,
In due proportion to the shew and shine.
All's calculated by the glow, and glare--
Frail, short-liv'd things their full affection share--
While Vanity unveils her whiffling flags,
Her glittering trinkets, and her tawdry rags--
Spreads spangled nets, and fills her philter'd bowl,
To fix each Sense, and fascinate the Soul--
Her birdlime twigs contrived with such sly Art,
That while they tangle thoughts, they trap the heart,
Thus to impair her strength, and spoil her wings,
No more to mount o'er temporary things,
But, drunk with spurious Pleasure--cag'd in State--
Forego true Freedom, and forget her Fate!
Categories
Provenance
Searching "soul" and "bird" 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
04/29/2012
