"Such were Love's Ardors, he could scarce forbear / His fettering flesh, his free Soul's chaines, to tear."
— Pordage, Samuel (bap. 1633, d. c. 1691)
Place of Publication
London
Publisher
Printed by T. R. for Lodowick Lloyd
Date
1661
Metaphor
"Such were Love's Ardors, he could scarce forbear / His fettering flesh, his free Soul's chaines, to tear."
Metaphor in Context
Fierce was the flame, and strong the happy heat,
Which on the Pilgrim's chafed Soul did beat:
Quick beat the pulses of his Noble breast,
High was the Tyde of LOVE, which still encreast
Its scalding waves, so that he thought he shou'd
Have lost his Life in that delicious Flood.
Such were Love's Ardors, he could scarce forbear
His fettering flesh, his free Soul's chaines, to tear:
How oft he mounted nimbly from the ground,
As if his Soul some passage thence had found:
How was he griev'd to see he leap'd in vain,
To see his Body bring her down again!
O how he wished that his Soul might be,
Now from the shackling gives of Flesh set free,
That she might spread her spacious wings, and fly,
Th'row the wide Welkin of Æternity,
Unto th' illustrous Throne of Christ, and there
Among the Crowned Saints new cloath'd appear:
But chiefly that she without Letts might move
In the vast Ocean of Æternal LOVE.
For whilst that Flesh her freedom did restrain,
The more her pleasure was, the more her pain,
To be deny'd her Liberty, that she
Engulphed was not in that endlesse Sea:
Streams could not now content her; the Abysse
Of Love alone, must now compleat her Blisse.
O happy Souls which in such Flames do move
And frying, thus LOVE'S blessed Martyrs prove.
Which on the Pilgrim's chafed Soul did beat:
Quick beat the pulses of his Noble breast,
High was the Tyde of LOVE, which still encreast
Its scalding waves, so that he thought he shou'd
Have lost his Life in that delicious Flood.
Such were Love's Ardors, he could scarce forbear
His fettering flesh, his free Soul's chaines, to tear:
How oft he mounted nimbly from the ground,
As if his Soul some passage thence had found:
How was he griev'd to see he leap'd in vain,
To see his Body bring her down again!
O how he wished that his Soul might be,
Now from the shackling gives of Flesh set free,
That she might spread her spacious wings, and fly,
Th'row the wide Welkin of Æternity,
Unto th' illustrous Throne of Christ, and there
Among the Crowned Saints new cloath'd appear:
But chiefly that she without Letts might move
In the vast Ocean of Æternal LOVE.
For whilst that Flesh her freedom did restrain,
The more her pleasure was, the more her pain,
To be deny'd her Liberty, that she
Engulphed was not in that endlesse Sea:
Streams could not now content her; the Abysse
Of Love alone, must now compleat her Blisse.
O happy Souls which in such Flames do move
And frying, thus LOVE'S blessed Martyrs prove.
Categories
Provenance
Searching "chain" and "soul" in HDIS (Poetry)
Citation
Samuel Pordage, Mundorum Explicatio Wherein are Couched the Mysteries of the External, Internal, and Eternal worlds (London: T.R. for Lodowick Lloyd, 1661). <Link to EEBO>
Date of Entry
01/11/2012
