Natures Picture Drawn by Fancies Pencil To the Life Being several Feigned Stories, Comical, Tragical, Tragi-comical, Poetical, Romancical, Philosophical, Historical, and Moral: Some in Verse, some in Prose; some Mixt, and some by Dialogues. Written by the Thrice Noble, Illustrious, and most Excellent Princess, The Duchess of Newcastle [i.e. Margaret Cavendish]. The Second Edition |
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 | Natures Picture Drawn by Fancies Pencil To the Life |  |
But they that study much, and seldom speak,
For want of use of words, are far to seek:
Their Tongue is like a rusty Key grown rough,
Which hardly turns, so do their words come forth:
Or like an Instrument that lies unstrung,
Till it be tun'd, cannot be plaid upon:
For Custom makes the Tongue both smooth & quick,
And moving oft, no words thereon will stick;
Like to a flowing-Tide, makes its own way,
Runs smooth or clear, without a stop or stay:
That makes a Lawyer plead well at the barr,
Because he talks there four parts of the year:
That makes Divines in Pulpits well to preach,
Because so often they the People teach:
But those that use to contemplate alone,
May have fine thoughts, good words t'express, they none:
Good language they express in black and white,
Although they speak it not, yet well they write:
Much thoughts keep back the words from running out;
The tongue's ti'd up, the sluce is stopt no doubt:
For Fancy's quick, and flies such several ways,
For to be drest in words it seldom stays.
Fancy is like an Eele, so slippery glides,
Before the tongue takes hold, away it slides.
Thus he that seldom speaks, is like to those
That travelling, their Mother-tongues do lose.
For want of use of words, are far to seek:
Their Tongue is like a rusty Key grown rough,
Which hardly turns, so do their words come forth:
Or like an Instrument that lies unstrung,
Till it be tun'd, cannot be plaid upon:
For Custom makes the Tongue both smooth & quick,
And moving oft, no words thereon will stick;
Like to a flowing-Tide, makes its own way,
Runs smooth or clear, without a stop or stay:
That makes a Lawyer plead well at the barr,
Because he talks there four parts of the year:
That makes Divines in Pulpits well to preach,
Because so often they the People teach:
But those that use to contemplate alone,
May have fine thoughts, good words t'express, they none:
Good language they express in black and white,
Although they speak it not, yet well they write:
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The tongue's ti'd up, the sluce is stopt no doubt:
For Fancy's quick, and flies such several ways,
For to be drest in words it seldom stays.
Fancy is like an Eele, so slippery glides,
Before the tongue takes hold, away it slides.
Thus he that seldom speaks, is like to those
That travelling, their Mother-tongues do lose.
| Natures Picture Drawn by Fancies Pencil To the Life | |