"Nor does its [sickness's] Malice in these bounds restrain, / But shakes the Throne of Sacred Wit, the Brain, / And with a ne're enough detested Force / Reason disturbs, and turns out of its Course."
— Killigrew, Anne (1660-1685)
Author
Work Title
Place of Publication
London
Publisher
Printed for Samuel Lowndes
Date
1686
Metaphor
"Nor does its [sickness's] Malice in these bounds restrain, / But shakes the Throne of Sacred Wit, the Brain, / And with a ne're enough detested Force / Reason disturbs, and turns out of its Course."
Metaphor in Context
Yet Poverty does leave the Man entire,
But Sickness nearer Mischiefs does conspire;
Invades the Body with a loath'd Embrace,
Prides both its Strength, and Beauty to deface;
Nor does its Malice in these bounds restrain,
But shakes the Throne of Sacred Wit, the Brain,
And with a ne're enough detested Force
Reason disturbs, and turns out of its Course.
Again, when Nature some Rare Piece has made,
On which her Utmost Skill she seems t'ave laid,
Polish't, adorn'd the Work with moving Grace,
And in the Beauteous Frame a Soul doth place,
So perfectly compos'd, it makes Divine
Each Motion, Word, and Look from thence does shine;
This Goodly Composition, the Delight
Of ev'ry Heart, and Joy of ev'ry sight,
Its peevish Malice has the Power to spoyle,
And with a Sully'd Hand its Lusture soyle.
The Grief were Endless, that should all bewaile,
Against whose sweet Repose thou dost prevail:
Some freeze with Agues, some with Feavers burn,
Whose Lives thou half out of their Holds dost turn;
And of whose Sufferings it may be said,
They living feel the very State o'th' Dead.
Thou in a thousand sev'ral Forms are drest,
And in them all dost Wretched Man infest.
But Sickness nearer Mischiefs does conspire;
Invades the Body with a loath'd Embrace,
Prides both its Strength, and Beauty to deface;
Nor does its Malice in these bounds restrain,
But shakes the Throne of Sacred Wit, the Brain,
And with a ne're enough detested Force
Reason disturbs, and turns out of its Course.
Again, when Nature some Rare Piece has made,
On which her Utmost Skill she seems t'ave laid,
Polish't, adorn'd the Work with moving Grace,
And in the Beauteous Frame a Soul doth place,
So perfectly compos'd, it makes Divine
Each Motion, Word, and Look from thence does shine;
This Goodly Composition, the Delight
Of ev'ry Heart, and Joy of ev'ry sight,
Its peevish Malice has the Power to spoyle,
And with a Sully'd Hand its Lusture soyle.
The Grief were Endless, that should all bewaile,
Against whose sweet Repose thou dost prevail:
Some freeze with Agues, some with Feavers burn,
Whose Lives thou half out of their Holds dost turn;
And of whose Sufferings it may be said,
They living feel the very State o'th' Dead.
Thou in a thousand sev'ral Forms are drest,
And in them all dost Wretched Man infest.
Categories
Provenance
Searching "throne" and "brain" in HDIS (Poetry)
Citation
Only 1 entry in ESTC (1686).
Poems by Mrs. Anne Killigrew (London: Printed for Samuel Lowndes, over against Exeter Exchange in the Strand, 1686). <Link to ESTC><Link to EEBO-TCP>
See also Anne Killigrew,Poems (1686). Facs. edn., ed. R. E. Morton (Gainesville, Florida: Scholars, 1967), 32ff. <Link to RPO>
Poems by Mrs. Anne Killigrew (London: Printed for Samuel Lowndes, over against Exeter Exchange in the Strand, 1686). <Link to ESTC><Link to EEBO-TCP>
See also Anne Killigrew,Poems (1686). Facs. edn., ed. R. E. Morton (Gainesville, Florida: Scholars, 1967), 32ff. <Link to RPO>
Date of Entry
08/09/2004
Date of Review
01/23/2012
