"Since the same Flame, by different Ways express'd, / Glows in the Heroe's and the Poet's Breast."
— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)
Author
Work Title
Place of Publication
London
Publisher
Printed for Jacob Tonson
Date
November 25, 1707; 1708
Metaphor
"Since the same Flame, by different Ways express'd, / Glows in the Heroe's and the Poet's Breast."
Metaphor in Context
PROLOGUE.
Since to your fam'd Fore-Fathers quite contrary,
You from their Pleasures, as their Wisdom, vary;
What Art, what Method, shall the Poet find,
To hit the Taste of each fantastick Mind?
Legions of Joys your wand'ring Fancies lead,
Like Summer Flies, which in the Shambles breed;
Path Year they swarm anew, and to the last succeed.
Time was, when Fools by Fellowship were known;
But now they stray; and in this populous Town
Each Coxcomb has a Folly of his own.
Some dress, some dance, some play; not to forget
Your Piquet Parties, and your dear Basset.
Some Praise, some Rail, some Bow, and some make Faces;
Your Country Squires hunt Foxes, your Court, Places.
The City too fills up the various Scene,
Where Fools lay Wagers, and where Wise Men win.
One rails at Cælia for a late Mischance,
One grumbles, and cries up the Pow'r of France.
This Man talks Politicks, and that takes Pills;
One cures his own, and one the Nation's Ills.
Now Fidling, and the Charms of Sing-Song, win ye;
Harmonious Peg and warbling Valentini.
As to your Drinking--but for that we spare it,
Nor with your other vile Delights compare it,
There's something more than Sound, there's Sense in Claret.
Mean while neglected Verse, in long Disgrace,
Amongst your many Pleasures finds no Place;
The virtuous Laws of common Sense for swearing,
You damn us, like packt Juries, without hearing.
Each puny Whipster here, is Wit enough,
With scornful Airs, and supercilious Snuff,
To cry, This Tragedy's such damn'd grave Stuff.
But now we hope more equal Judges come,
Since Flanders sends the generous Warriors home:
You that haue fought for Liberty and Laws,
Whose Valour the proud Gallick Tyrant awes,
Join to assert the sinking Muses Cause,
Since the same Flame, by different Ways express'd,
Glows in the Heroe's and the Poet's Breast.
The same great Thoughts that rouse you to the Fight
Inspire the Muse, and bid the Poet write.
Since to your fam'd Fore-Fathers quite contrary,
You from their Pleasures, as their Wisdom, vary;
What Art, what Method, shall the Poet find,
To hit the Taste of each fantastick Mind?
Legions of Joys your wand'ring Fancies lead,
Like Summer Flies, which in the Shambles breed;
Path Year they swarm anew, and to the last succeed.
Time was, when Fools by Fellowship were known;
But now they stray; and in this populous Town
Each Coxcomb has a Folly of his own.
Some dress, some dance, some play; not to forget
Your Piquet Parties, and your dear Basset.
Some Praise, some Rail, some Bow, and some make Faces;
Your Country Squires hunt Foxes, your Court, Places.
The City too fills up the various Scene,
Where Fools lay Wagers, and where Wise Men win.
One rails at Cælia for a late Mischance,
One grumbles, and cries up the Pow'r of France.
This Man talks Politicks, and that takes Pills;
One cures his own, and one the Nation's Ills.
Now Fidling, and the Charms of Sing-Song, win ye;
Harmonious Peg and warbling Valentini.
As to your Drinking--but for that we spare it,
Nor with your other vile Delights compare it,
There's something more than Sound, there's Sense in Claret.
Mean while neglected Verse, in long Disgrace,
Amongst your many Pleasures finds no Place;
The virtuous Laws of common Sense for swearing,
You damn us, like packt Juries, without hearing.
Each puny Whipster here, is Wit enough,
With scornful Airs, and supercilious Snuff,
To cry, This Tragedy's such damn'd grave Stuff.
But now we hope more equal Judges come,
Since Flanders sends the generous Warriors home:
You that haue fought for Liberty and Laws,
Whose Valour the proud Gallick Tyrant awes,
Join to assert the sinking Muses Cause,
Since the same Flame, by different Ways express'd,
Glows in the Heroe's and the Poet's Breast.
The same great Thoughts that rouse you to the Fight
Inspire the Muse, and bid the Poet write.
Categories
Provenance
C-H Lion
Citation
First performed November 25, 1707. Thirty-three entries in ESTC (1708, 1714, 1719, 1720, 1725, 1726, 1728, 1733, 1736, 1757, 1764, 1765, 1768, 1774, 1776, 1779, 1780, 1782, 1791, 1794, 1795).
The Royal Convert. A Tragedy. As it is Acted at the Queen's Theatre in the Hay-Market. By Her Majesty's Sworn Servants. Written by N. Rowe (London: Printed for Jacob Tonson, 1708). <Link to ECCO>
The Royal Convert. A Tragedy. As it is Acted at the Queen's Theatre in the Hay-Market. By Her Majesty's Sworn Servants. Written by N. Rowe (London: Printed for Jacob Tonson, 1708). <Link to ECCO>
Date of Entry
07/25/2013
