"'Till virtue, pointing out the purer mind, / Secures the gem, and leaves the dross behind, / Claims the bright spirit from its native clod, / And bears it, spotless, to the sight of God!"

— Robinson [Née Darby], Mary [Perdita] (1758-1800)


Place of Publication
London
Date
1791, 1806
Metaphor
"'Till virtue, pointing out the purer mind, / Secures the gem, and leaves the dross behind, / Claims the bright spirit from its native clod, / And bears it, spotless, to the sight of God!"
Metaphor in Context
When resignation, bending from the sky,
Steals the fond lingering tear from virtue's eye;
When the keen agonies of grief are flown,
And reason triumphs on her tranquil throne;
The Muse to worth and genius tunes her lyre,
While the chords glisten with celestial fire:
The Muse, in strains untutor'd, and unsought,
Soars on the pinions of enraptur'd thought;
While memory to her eagle eye pourtrays
The lustrous tablet of a nation's praise;
While fame, exulting, spreads her fost'ring wings,
And truth spontaneous sweeps the bounding strings!
Hark! the full chords in mystic sounds aspire,
To swell the chorus of the heavenly choir!
Where, to seraphic harps, ethereal borne,
The song of patience bids us cease to mourn;
Contemns the tear that gems each kindred eye,
Calms the quick throb, and checks the frequent sigh!
While, 'midst the blaze of pure Promethean light,
The meek-ey'd cherub bends to mortal sight!
See from her dazzling wing soft essence pour
Heaven's sacred balm for mis'ry's darkest hour;
When Fate inexorable deals her blow
O'er this rude wilderness of human woe,
'Till virtue, pointing out the purer mind,
Secures the gem, and leaves the dross behind,
Claims the bright spirit from its native clod,
And bears it, spotless, to the sight of God!

Yet, Reynolds, while the winged minstrels join
In all the melodies of sounds divine,
Round thy cold image, on its icy bed,
Some light illumes the mansion of the dead;
An unextinguish'd light, that gilds the gloom
Where weeping genius guards her fav'rite's tomb!
Brightly it shines where thy pure ashes sleep;
And while pale melancholy hides to weep,
Fame, with glittering wing, shall fan the fire,
To shed new lustre on the Muse's lyre!
Provenance
Searching "mind" and "dross" in HDIS (Poetry)
Citation
Text from The Poetical Works of the Late Mrs Mary Robinson: Including Many Pieces Never Before Published. 3 vols. (London: Printed for Richard Phillips, 1806). <Link to vol. I in Google Books><Vol. II><Vol. III>

See Poems by Mrs. M. Robinson. 2 vols. (London: Printed by T. Spilsbury and Son, 1791). Link to ECCO>

See also Monody to the Memory of Sir Joshua Reynolds, Late President of the Royal Academy. &c. &c. &c. by Mrs. Mary Robinson. (London: Printed by J. Bell, Bookseller to his Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, at the British Library, Strand, 1792). <Link to ECCO>
Date of Entry
07/19/2005

The Mind is a Metaphor is authored by Brad Pasanek, Assistant Professor of English, University of Virginia.