Truth in Fiction Or, Morality in Masquerade. A Collection of Two hundred twenty five Select Fables of Aesop, and other Authors. Done into English Verse. By Edmund Arwaker |
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| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. | FABLE XXVII. The Mourning Widow: |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| XXXVIII. |
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| XLIX. |
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| LII. |
| LIII. |
| LIV. |
| LV. |
| LVI. |
| LVII. |
| LVIII. |
| LIX. |
| LX. |
| LXI. |
| LXII. |
| LXIII. |
| LXIV. |
| LXV. |
| LXVI. |
| LXVII. |
| LXVIII. |
| II. |
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| IV. |
 | Truth in Fiction |  |
FABLE XXVII. The Mourning Widow:
Or, In Dock, Out Nettle.
A brisk young Lady, of good Air and Mien,
Who had not much exceeded sweet Fifteen,
But a whole brace of Weeks had been a Wife,
And lik'd the Pleasures of a Marry'd Life;
(Nor cou'd she chuse, 'twas yet but Honey-Moon,
And Wedlock seldom shews its Sting so soon)
Found all her dawning Joys with Clouds o'erspread;
Her Husband Dying on his Nuptial-Bed.
Who had not much exceeded sweet Fifteen,
But a whole brace of Weeks had been a Wife,
And lik'd the Pleasures of a Marry'd Life;
(Nor cou'd she chuse, 'twas yet but Honey-Moon,
And Wedlock seldom shews its Sting so soon)
Found all her dawning Joys with Clouds o'erspread;
Her Husband Dying on his Nuptial-Bed.
She Sigh'd, Lamented, and by fits would Roar;
(But less had Mourn'd him, had she Known him more)
No Med'cine cou'd be found for her Relief;
The very Name of Comfort, rais'd her Grief:
She kill'd the Birds that in her Windows hung,
Not conscious of what past, because they sung.
(But less had Mourn'd him, had she Known him more)
No Med'cine cou'd be found for her Relief;
The very Name of Comfort, rais'd her Grief:
She kill'd the Birds that in her Windows hung,
Not conscious of what past, because they sung.
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Her Mother, who was griev'd to hear her Cries,
And did in all her Sorrows sympathize,
The Remedy of good Advice apply'd,
And thus, to lessen her Affliction, try'd:
Spend not profusely, Child, your precious Tears;
Take some Compassion on your tender Years;
Be not injurious to those Cheeks and Eyes,
Which all who see them (but your self) will prize:
You need not long Affliction's Weight endure;
The Hand that gives the Wound, will find a Cure:
For, if your Dear (which Fate forbid) shou'd die,
I have another Husband in my Eye.
And did in all her Sorrows sympathize,
The Remedy of good Advice apply'd,
And thus, to lessen her Affliction, try'd:
Spend not profusely, Child, your precious Tears;
Take some Compassion on your tender Years;
Be not injurious to those Cheeks and Eyes,
Which all who see them (but your self) will prize:
You need not long Affliction's Weight endure;
The Hand that gives the Wound, will find a Cure:
For, if your Dear (which Fate forbid) shou'd die,
I have another Husband in my Eye.
At this, like one to Bedlam newly brought,
She Rag'd, she Swell'd, she Foam'd, she Heav'd, and Wrought;
And, when Respiring had restor'd her Breath,
Husband! she cry'd; My Husband shall be Death.
She Rag'd, she Swell'd, she Foam'd, she Heav'd, and Wrought;
And, when Respiring had restor'd her Breath,
Husband! she cry'd; My Husband shall be Death.
Thus she continu'd till her Husband dy'd,
And Death the Matrimonial-Knot unty'd:
But her Affection liv'd to the Deceas'd,
And as he Colder grew, its Warmth encreas'd:
Extended by his senseless Corps she lay
To warm the Lump of abdicated Clay;
'Till Grief exhausted in the wild Extreme,
Left her to descant on a sweeter Theme:
And, wisely recollecting 'twas in vain
To call a Soul Departed back again;
She to the Living her best Thoughts affords,
With pleas'd Reflections on her Mother's Words,
Whom thus she gently whispers in the Ear;
What last you said, Pray Madam, let me hear:
I will obey your Dictates, if I can,
But wou'd be willing first to know the Man.
And Death the Matrimonial-Knot unty'd:
But her Affection liv'd to the Deceas'd,
And as he Colder grew, its Warmth encreas'd:
Extended by his senseless Corps she lay
To warm the Lump of abdicated Clay;
'Till Grief exhausted in the wild Extreme,
Left her to descant on a sweeter Theme:
And, wisely recollecting 'twas in vain
To call a Soul Departed back again;
She to the Living her best Thoughts affords,
With pleas'd Reflections on her Mother's Words,
Whom thus she gently whispers in the Ear;
What last you said, Pray Madam, let me hear:
I will obey your Dictates, if I can,
But wou'd be willing first to know the Man.
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The MORAL.
‘Surviving Wives such to dead Husband's prove;
‘Death, with the Man, annihilates the Love:
‘For who can still desire what is no more?
‘No more the thing for which 'twas lov'd before?
‘And where the Objects of Affection cease,
‘The Passion must by consequence decrease:
‘For, by the stated Rules of Nature's Laws,
‘Effects are hinder'd to survive their Cause.
‘Death, with the Man, annihilates the Love:
‘For who can still desire what is no more?
‘No more the thing for which 'twas lov'd before?
‘And where the Objects of Affection cease,
‘The Passion must by consequence decrease:
‘For, by the stated Rules of Nature's Laws,
‘Effects are hinder'd to survive their Cause.
‘What is a Husband but an empty Name,
‘When he, who bore it, is no more the same?
‘And she, who wou'd his Memory retain,
‘Enjoins her self a wretched Life, in vain;
‘As fondly acts, as one that wou'd embrace
‘A Shadow, when the Substance quits the Place.
‘This only Good to Widows Tears is due,
‘Grief for old Husbands, oft' procures them new.
‘When he, who bore it, is no more the same?
‘And she, who wou'd his Memory retain,
‘Enjoins her self a wretched Life, in vain;
‘As fondly acts, as one that wou'd embrace
‘A Shadow, when the Substance quits the Place.
‘This only Good to Widows Tears is due,
‘Grief for old Husbands, oft' procures them new.
| Truth in Fiction | |