"Here at the fountain's sliding foot, / Or at some fruit tree's mossy root, / Casting the body's vest aside, / My soul into the boughs does glide; / There like a bird it sits and sings, / Then whets, and combs its silver wings; / And, till prepar'd for longer flight, / Waves in its plumes the various light."

— Marvell, Andrew (1621-1678)


Place of Publication
London
Publisher
Printed for Robert Boulter
Date
1681
Metaphor
"Here at the fountain's sliding foot, / Or at some fruit tree's mossy root, / Casting the body's vest aside, / My soul into the boughs does glide; / There like a bird it sits and sings, / Then whets, and combs its silver wings; / And, till prepar'd for longer flight, / Waves in its plumes the various light."
Metaphor in Context
Here at the fountain's sliding foot,
Or at some fruit tree's mossy root,
Casting the body's vest aside,
My soul into the boughs does glide;
There like a bird it sits and sings,
Then whets, and combs its silver wings;
And, till prepar'd for longer flight,
Waves in its plumes the various light.
(ll. 49-56)
Provenance
Reading Norton Critical Edition of Seventeenth Century British Poetry, 1603-1660; found again reading Rosalie Osmond's Imagining the Soul: A History (Phoenix Mill: Sutton Publishing, 2003), 139.
Citation
Andrew Marvell, Miscellaneous Poems (London: Robert Boulter, 1681). <Link to EEBO> <Link to RPO>
Date of Entry
12/15/2006
Date of Review
04/04/2012

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