"O happy stroke, that bursts the bonds of clay, / Darts through the rending gloom the blaze of day, / And wings the soul with boundless flight to soar, / Where dangers threat, and fears alarm no more."
— Beattie, James (1735-1803)
Author
Work Title
Date
1760
Metaphor
"O happy stroke, that bursts the bonds of clay, / Darts through the rending gloom the blaze of day, / And wings the soul with boundless flight to soar, / Where dangers threat, and fears alarm no more."
Metaphor in Context
All cold the hand, that soothed Woe's weary head!
And quench'd the eye, the pitying tear that shed!
And mute the voice, whose pleasing accents stole,
Infusing balm, into the rankled soul!
O Death, why arm with cruelty thy power,
And spare the idle weed, yet lop the flower!
Why fly thy shafts in lawless error driven!
Is Virtue then no more the care of Heaven!---
But peace, bold thought! be still my bursting heart!
We, not Eliza, felt the fatal dart.
Scaped the dark dungeon does the slave complain,
Nor bless the hand that broke the galling chain?
Say, pines not Virtue for the lingering morn,
On this dark wild condemn'd to roam forlorn?
Where Reason's meteor-rays, with sickly glow,
O'er the dun gloom a dreadful glimmering throw?
Disclosing dubious to th' affrighted eye
O'erwhelming mountains tottering from on high,
Black billowy seas in storm perpetual toss'd,
And weary ways in wildering labyrinths lost.
O happy stroke, that bursts the bonds of clay,
Darts through the rending gloom the blaze of day,
And wings the soul with boundless flight to soar,
Where dangers threat, and fears alarm no more.
(p. 51, ll. 63-85)
And quench'd the eye, the pitying tear that shed!
And mute the voice, whose pleasing accents stole,
Infusing balm, into the rankled soul!
O Death, why arm with cruelty thy power,
And spare the idle weed, yet lop the flower!
Why fly thy shafts in lawless error driven!
Is Virtue then no more the care of Heaven!---
But peace, bold thought! be still my bursting heart!
We, not Eliza, felt the fatal dart.
Scaped the dark dungeon does the slave complain,
Nor bless the hand that broke the galling chain?
Say, pines not Virtue for the lingering morn,
On this dark wild condemn'd to roam forlorn?
Where Reason's meteor-rays, with sickly glow,
O'er the dun gloom a dreadful glimmering throw?
Disclosing dubious to th' affrighted eye
O'erwhelming mountains tottering from on high,
Black billowy seas in storm perpetual toss'd,
And weary ways in wildering labyrinths lost.
O happy stroke, that bursts the bonds of clay,
Darts through the rending gloom the blaze of day,
And wings the soul with boundless flight to soar,
Where dangers threat, and fears alarm no more.
(p. 51, ll. 63-85)
Provenance
C-H Lion (Poetry); confirmed in ECCO.
Citation
At least 12 entries in ECCO and ESTC (1760, 1761, 1770, 1773, 1775, 1776, 1779, 1783, 1789, 1797, 1799). Collected in The British Poets, A Collection of Original Poems. By Rev. Mr. Blacklock, and Other Scotch Gentlemen, The Muse's Pocket Companion, Pearch's A Collection of Original Poems. In Four Volumes, Choice of the Best Poetical Pieces of the Most Eminent English Poets, The English Parnassus, and Bell's Classical Arrangment of Fugitive Poetry.
See Original Poems and Translations. By James Beattie, A.M. (London [i.e. Aberdeen?]: Printed [by F. Douglas, Aberdeen?]; and sold by A. Millar in The Strand, 1760). <Link to ESTC><Link to ECCO>
Also Original Poems and Translations. By James Beattie, A.M. (Aberdeen: Printed by F. Douglas; and sold by him for the benefit of the author, and in London by A. Millar, in the Strand, 1761). <Link to ESTC><Link to ECCO>
Text from Poems on Several Subjects. By James Beattie, new edition, corrected (London: Printed for W. Johnston, 1766). <Link to ESTC><Link to Google Books>
See Original Poems and Translations. By James Beattie, A.M. (London [i.e. Aberdeen?]: Printed [by F. Douglas, Aberdeen?]; and sold by A. Millar in The Strand, 1760). <Link to ESTC><Link to ECCO>
Also Original Poems and Translations. By James Beattie, A.M. (Aberdeen: Printed by F. Douglas; and sold by him for the benefit of the author, and in London by A. Millar, in the Strand, 1761). <Link to ESTC><Link to ECCO>
Text from Poems on Several Subjects. By James Beattie, new edition, corrected (London: Printed for W. Johnston, 1766). <Link to ESTC><Link to Google Books>
Date of Entry
07/02/2013
