Paraphrase on Cant. 5. 6. &c. Elizabeth Rowe (née Singer) Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
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Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
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Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. R7317 A57734 Rowe, Elizabeth Singer, 1674-1737. Poems on several occasions. Written by Philomela. London Printed for John Dunton at the Raven in Jewen-street 1696 pp. 13-14. [24],72,69,[11]p.; 8⁰

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Paraphrase on Cant. 5. 6. &c. OH ! How his Pointed Language , like a Dart , Sticks to the softest Fibres of my Heart , Quite through my Soul the charming Accents slide , That from his Life inspiring Portals glide ; And whilst I the inchanting sound admire , My melting Vitals in a Trance expire . Oh Son of Venus , Mourn thy baffled Arts , For I defye the proudest of thy Darts : Undazled now , I thy weak Taper View , And find no fatal influence accrue ; Nor would fond Child thy feebler Lamp appear , Should my bright Sun deign to approach more near ; Canst thou his Rival then pretend to prove ? Thou a false Idol , he the God of Love ; Lovely beyond Conception , he is all Reason , or Fancy amiable call , All that the most exerted thoughts can reach , When sublimated to its utmost streach . Oh ! altogether Charming , why in thee Do the vain World no Form or Beauty see ? Why do they Idolize a dusty clod , And yet refuse their Homage to a God ? Why from a beautious flowing Fountain turn , For the Dead Puddle of a narrow Urn ? Oh Carnal Madness ! sure we falsly call So dull a thing as man is , rational ; Alas , my shining Love , what can there be On Earth so splendid to out-glitter thee ? In whom the brightness of a God-head Shines , With all its lovely and endearing Lines ; Thee with whose light Mortallity once blest , Would throw off its dark Veil to be possest ; Then altogether Lovely , why in thee Do the vain World no Form or Beauty see .