The Poetical Works of The Rev. Samuel Bishop ... To Which are Prefixed, Memoirs of the Life of the Author By the Rev. Thomas Clare |
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 | The Poetical Works of The Rev. Samuel Bishop |  |
36
TO THE SAME,
ON ANOTHER ANNIVERSARY OF THE SAME DAY. WITH A WORK-BAG OF SILK AND PAPER.
Since our connubial bliss begun,
How many years their course have run!
And, if more dear could be, more dear,
How Love has made you, year by year!
How many years their course have run!
And, if more dear could be, more dear,
How Love has made you, year by year!
What wonder therefore, if my breast,
By one idea all possest,
Whene'er I think, whate'er I do,
Enjoys the slightest hint of You!
By one idea all possest,
Whene'er I think, whate'er I do,
Enjoys the slightest hint of You!
Ev'n in a Toy at random wrought,
Some features faithful Fancy caught;
Whence Love could trace, and Truth portray,
The Wife and Woman of to-day.
Some features faithful Fancy caught;
37
The Wife and Woman of to-day.
In this same simple Bag, I see
A type of female Industry:—
And where's the Labour, where's the Care,
You've fear'd to meet, or grudg'd to share?
A scanty Lot the world supplies!—
—You make that scanty lot suffice.
Hope for a little moment gleams!—
—More liberal efforts prompt your schemes.
While sense improves a thousand ways,
What Patience bore, with equal praise:
And frugal skill, correcting Taste,
Seems only Ornament more chaste:
Or Toils express, as each takes place,
How new exertions vary grace.
A type of female Industry:—
And where's the Labour, where's the Care,
You've fear'd to meet, or grudg'd to share?
A scanty Lot the world supplies!—
—You make that scanty lot suffice.
Hope for a little moment gleams!—
—More liberal efforts prompt your schemes.
While sense improves a thousand ways,
What Patience bore, with equal praise:
And frugal skill, correcting Taste,
Seems only Ornament more chaste:
Or Toils express, as each takes place,
How new exertions vary grace.
Two-fold Materials, aptly join'd,
To form this votive Bag combin'd:
A Silken Top invites our hands,
Whose Base mere humble Paper stands.
That Base, (too well experience knows,)
Your tender Frame's true semblance shows;
Which pain now rends, now weakness wears,
And every ruder touch impairs:—
While, like the Silken Top, your Mind,
Preserves, unconquer'd tho' resign'd,
Gentle to sooth, firm to endure,
It's texture whole, it's lustre pure.
To form this votive Bag combin'd:
38
Whose Base mere humble Paper stands.
That Base, (too well experience knows,)
Your tender Frame's true semblance shows;
Which pain now rends, now weakness wears,
And every ruder touch impairs:—
While, like the Silken Top, your Mind,
Preserves, unconquer'd tho' resign'd,
Gentle to sooth, firm to endure,
It's texture whole, it's lustre pure.
A Band, scarce obvious to the sight,
Extends this Bag, or draws it tight;
Fit emblem of the secret clue,
(As delicate, and as powerful too,)
With which our judgments you controul,
And move, or fix at will, the soul:—
While all a daughter's feelings say,
'Tis mere indulgence to obey;
And fondness knows not how to boast
An husband's pride, or pleasure, most.
Extends this Bag, or draws it tight;
Fit emblem of the secret clue,
(As delicate, and as powerful too,)
With which our judgments you controul,
And move, or fix at will, the soul:—
While all a daughter's feelings say,
'Tis mere indulgence to obey;
39
An husband's pride, or pleasure, most.
When in this Bag, your care has pent
Each future needful implement,
'Twill be the perfect counter-part,
Of that large treasury—your heart:
Where gradual exercise hath stor'd
Whate'er makes merit more ador'd:
Where every grief your friends endure,
Expects it's comfort; or it's cure!
Each future needful implement,
'Twill be the perfect counter-part,
Of that large treasury—your heart:
Where gradual exercise hath stor'd
Whate'er makes merit more ador'd:
Where every grief your friends endure,
Expects it's comfort; or it's cure!
Still, Molly, let that Heart find room,
For all th' extremes of mortal doom;
To every sorrow round apply
A cordial, or devote a sigh;—
But keep from all, save rapture, free
A corner there for Love and Me.
For all th' extremes of mortal doom;
To every sorrow round apply
A cordial, or devote a sigh;—
But keep from all, save rapture, free
A corner there for Love and Me.
| The Poetical Works of The Rev. Samuel Bishop | |