"Here garrulous Old Age winds up his Tale; / And jovial Youth of lightsome vacant Heart, / Whose ev'ry Day was made of Melody, / Hears not the Voice of Mirth."
— Blair, Robert (1699-1746)
Author
Work Title
Place of Publication
London
Publisher
Printed for M. Cooper
Date
1743
Metaphor
"Here garrulous Old Age winds up his Tale; / And jovial Youth of lightsome vacant Heart, / Whose ev'ry Day was made of Melody, / Hears not the Voice of Mirth."
Metaphor in Context
[...] Here Friends and Foe
Lie close; unmindful of their former Feuds.
The Lawn-rob'd Prelate, and plain Presbyter,
E'er while that stood aloof, as shy to meet,
Familiar mingle here, like Sister-Streams
That some rude interposing Rock had split.
Here is the large-limb'd Peasant: Here the Child
Of a Span long, that never saw the Sun,
Nor press'd the Nipple, strangled in Life's Porch.
Here is the Mother with her Sons and Daughters;
The barren Wife; and long demurring Maid,
Whose lonely unappropriated Sweets
Smil'd like yon Knot of Cowslips on the Cliff,
Not to be come at by the willing Hand.
Here are the Prude severe, and gay Coquet,
The sober Widow, and the young green Virgin,
Cropp'd like a Rose, before 'tis fully blown,
Or half its Worth disclos'd. Strange Medley here!
Here garrulous Old Age winds up his Tale;
And jovial Youth of lightsome vacant Heart,
Whose ev'ry Day was made of Melody,
Hears not the Voice of Mirth: The shrill-tongu'd Shrew,
Meek as the Turtle-Dove, forgets her Chiding.
Here are the Wise, the Generous, and the Brave;
The Just, the Good, the Worthless, the Prophane,
The downright Clown, and perfectly Well-bred;
The Fool, the Churl, the Scoundrel, and the Mean,
The supple Statesman, and the Patriot stern;
The Wrecks of Nations, and the Spoils of Time,
With all the Lumber of Six Thousand Years.
(pp. 32-3, ll. 511-512)
Lie close; unmindful of their former Feuds.
The Lawn-rob'd Prelate, and plain Presbyter,
E'er while that stood aloof, as shy to meet,
Familiar mingle here, like Sister-Streams
That some rude interposing Rock had split.
Here is the large-limb'd Peasant: Here the Child
Of a Span long, that never saw the Sun,
Nor press'd the Nipple, strangled in Life's Porch.
Here is the Mother with her Sons and Daughters;
The barren Wife; and long demurring Maid,
Whose lonely unappropriated Sweets
Smil'd like yon Knot of Cowslips on the Cliff,
Not to be come at by the willing Hand.
Here are the Prude severe, and gay Coquet,
The sober Widow, and the young green Virgin,
Cropp'd like a Rose, before 'tis fully blown,
Or half its Worth disclos'd. Strange Medley here!
Here garrulous Old Age winds up his Tale;
And jovial Youth of lightsome vacant Heart,
Whose ev'ry Day was made of Melody,
Hears not the Voice of Mirth: The shrill-tongu'd Shrew,
Meek as the Turtle-Dove, forgets her Chiding.
Here are the Wise, the Generous, and the Brave;
The Just, the Good, the Worthless, the Prophane,
The downright Clown, and perfectly Well-bred;
The Fool, the Churl, the Scoundrel, and the Mean,
The supple Statesman, and the Patriot stern;
The Wrecks of Nations, and the Spoils of Time,
With all the Lumber of Six Thousand Years.
(pp. 32-3, ll. 511-512)
Categories
Provenance
Reading
Citation
Over 100 entries in ESTC (1743, 1747, 1749, 1751, 1753, 1756, 1785, 1761, 1764, 1767, 1768, 1769, 1770, 1771, 1772, 1773, 1774, 1776, 1777, 1779, 1780, 1781, 1782, 1783, 1784, 1785, 1786, 1787, 1788, 1789, 1790, 1791, 1792, 1793, 1794, 1795, 1796, 1797, 1798, 1799, 1800). Reprinted with great frequency after 1789.
Text from The Grave. A Poem. 4th ed. (London: Printed and Sold by J. Waugh, 1753).
See also The Grave. A Poem. By Robert Blair. (London: Printed for M. Cooper, 1743). <Link to ESTC><Link to 2nd edition in Google Books>
Text from The Grave. A Poem. 4th ed. (London: Printed and Sold by J. Waugh, 1753).
See also The Grave. A Poem. By Robert Blair. (London: Printed for M. Cooper, 1743). <Link to ESTC><Link to 2nd edition in Google Books>
Date of Entry
10/03/2013
