"Her form was beauty's self, thro' which refin'd / Shone, like a jewel chrystal-clos'd, her mind"
— Robertson, James (fl.1768-1788)
Place of Publication
London
Publisher
Printed for T. Davies ... G. Robinson ... and T. Cadell [etc.]
Date
1773
Metaphor
"Her form was beauty's self, thro' which refin'd / Shone, like a jewel chrystal-clos'd, her mind"
Metaphor in Context
Beneath this stone, now peaceful and at rest,
Lies Eve, the first of mothers and the best;
A wife so meek, so loving, and so true,
Time ne'er again to Time's last hour shall view;
Her children and her husband all her care,
For them, more than herself, her daily pray'r:
No idle Curiosity possest
The spotless mansion of her Angel-breast;
Free from all pride, her tongue was never known
To falshood, malice, or to slander prone,
But softest music on each accent hung,
To calm her husband's soul, when anguish-stung;
Her form was beauty's self, thro' which refin'd
Shone, like a jewel chrystal-clos'd, her mind;
"Grace was in all her steps, heav'n in her eye,
"And all her soul was love and dignity."
To count her numerous virtues were as vain,
As count the stars in yon ethereal plain:
'Ere nine short Centuries below were given,
Too good for earth, her soul was snatch'd to heav'n.--
Poor weeping Adam, to her honor'd shade,
Has caus'd this monument to be display'd,
As an Example to succeeding times,
That Truth shou'd reign in monumental Rhimes.
Lies Eve, the first of mothers and the best;
A wife so meek, so loving, and so true,
Time ne'er again to Time's last hour shall view;
Her children and her husband all her care,
For them, more than herself, her daily pray'r:
No idle Curiosity possest
The spotless mansion of her Angel-breast;
Free from all pride, her tongue was never known
To falshood, malice, or to slander prone,
But softest music on each accent hung,
To calm her husband's soul, when anguish-stung;
Her form was beauty's self, thro' which refin'd
Shone, like a jewel chrystal-clos'd, her mind;
"Grace was in all her steps, heav'n in her eye,
"And all her soul was love and dignity."
To count her numerous virtues were as vain,
As count the stars in yon ethereal plain:
'Ere nine short Centuries below were given,
Too good for earth, her soul was snatch'd to heav'n.--
Poor weeping Adam, to her honor'd shade,
Has caus'd this monument to be display'd,
As an Example to succeeding times,
That Truth shou'd reign in monumental Rhimes.
Categories
Provenance
Searching in HDIS (Poetry)
Date of Entry
04/17/2006
