"Yet all those billows in your breast did meet / A heart so firm, so loyal, and so sweet, / That over them you greater conquest made / Than your Immortal Father ever had."
— Philips [née Fowler], Katherine (1632-1664)
Place of Publication
London
Publisher
Printed by J. M. for H. Herringman
Date
1667
Metaphor
"Yet all those billows in your breast did meet / A heart so firm, so loyal, and so sweet, / That over them you greater conquest made / Than your Immortal Father ever had."
Metaphor in Context
You justly may forsake a Land which you
Have found so guilty and so fatal too.
Fortune, injurious to your Innocence,
Shot all her poison'd arrows here, or hence.
'Twas here bold Rebels once your Life pursu'd
(To whom 'twas Treason only to be rude,)
Till you were forc'd by their unwearied spight
(O glorious Criminal!) to take your flight.
Whence after you all that was Humane fled;
For here, oh! here the Royal Martyr bled,
Whose cause and heart must be divine and high,
That having you could be content to die.
Here they purloin'd what we to you did owe,
And paid you in variety of woe.
Yet all those billows in your breast did meet
A heart so firm, so loyal, and so sweet,
That over them you greater conquest made
Than your Immortal Father ever had.
For we may read in story of some few
That fought like him, none that indur'd like you:
Till Sorrow blush'd to act what Traitors meant,
And Providence it self did first repent.
But as our Active, so our Passive, ill
Hath made your share to be the sufferer's still.
As from our Mischiefs all your troubles grew,
'Tis your sad right to suffer for them too.
Else our Great Charles had not been hence so long,
Nor the Illustrious Glou'ster dy'd so young:
Nor had we lost a Princess all confest
To be the greatest, wisest, and the best;
Who leaving colder parts, but less unkind,
(For it was here she set, and there she shin'd,)
Did to a most ungrateful Climate come
To make a Visit, and to find a Tomb.
So that we should as much your smile despair,
As of your stay in this unpurged air;
But that your Mercy doth exceed our Crimes
As much as your Example former times,
And will forgive our Off'rings, though the flame
Does tremble still betwixt regret and shame.
For we have justly suffered more than you
By the sad guilt of all your suff'rings too.
As you the great Idea have been seen
Of either fortune, and in both a Queen,
Live still triumphant by the noblest wars,
And justifie your reconciled stars.
See your Offenders for your mercy bow,
And your try'd Virtue all Mankind allow;
While you to such a Race have given birth,
As are contended for by Heaven and Earth.
Have found so guilty and so fatal too.
Fortune, injurious to your Innocence,
Shot all her poison'd arrows here, or hence.
'Twas here bold Rebels once your Life pursu'd
(To whom 'twas Treason only to be rude,)
Till you were forc'd by their unwearied spight
(O glorious Criminal!) to take your flight.
Whence after you all that was Humane fled;
For here, oh! here the Royal Martyr bled,
Whose cause and heart must be divine and high,
That having you could be content to die.
Here they purloin'd what we to you did owe,
And paid you in variety of woe.
Yet all those billows in your breast did meet
A heart so firm, so loyal, and so sweet,
That over them you greater conquest made
Than your Immortal Father ever had.
For we may read in story of some few
That fought like him, none that indur'd like you:
Till Sorrow blush'd to act what Traitors meant,
And Providence it self did first repent.
But as our Active, so our Passive, ill
Hath made your share to be the sufferer's still.
As from our Mischiefs all your troubles grew,
'Tis your sad right to suffer for them too.
Else our Great Charles had not been hence so long,
Nor the Illustrious Glou'ster dy'd so young:
Nor had we lost a Princess all confest
To be the greatest, wisest, and the best;
Who leaving colder parts, but less unkind,
(For it was here she set, and there she shin'd,)
Did to a most ungrateful Climate come
To make a Visit, and to find a Tomb.
So that we should as much your smile despair,
As of your stay in this unpurged air;
But that your Mercy doth exceed our Crimes
As much as your Example former times,
And will forgive our Off'rings, though the flame
Does tremble still betwixt regret and shame.
For we have justly suffered more than you
By the sad guilt of all your suff'rings too.
As you the great Idea have been seen
Of either fortune, and in both a Queen,
Live still triumphant by the noblest wars,
And justifie your reconciled stars.
See your Offenders for your mercy bow,
And your try'd Virtue all Mankind allow;
While you to such a Race have given birth,
As are contended for by Heaven and Earth.
Categories
Provenance
Searching in HDIS (Poetry)
Citation
4 records in ESTC (1667, 1669, 1678, 1710).
Text from Poems: By the most deservedly Admired Mrs Katherine Philips: The matchless Orinda. To which is added Monsieur Corneille's Pompey & Horace Tragedies. With several other Translations out of French (London: Printed by J. M. for H. Herringman, 1667). <Link to EEBO>
Text from Poems: By the most deservedly Admired Mrs Katherine Philips: The matchless Orinda. To which is added Monsieur Corneille's Pompey & Horace Tragedies. With several other Translations out of French (London: Printed by J. M. for H. Herringman, 1667). <Link to EEBO>
Date of Entry
05/31/2005
