A Dialogue Between the Soul and Body
POSTED ON: 2010年2月28日日曜日 @ 10:14 | 1 comments
by Andrew Marvell
Soul
O Who shall, from this Dungeon, raise A Soul inslav'd so many wayes?With bolts of Bones, that fetter'd stands In Feet ; and manacled in Hands.
Here blinded with an Eye ; and there Deaf with the drumming of an Ear.
A Soul hung up, as 'twere, in Chains Of Nerves, and Arteries, and Veins.
Tortur'd, besides each other part,
In a vain Head, and double Heart.
Body
O who shall me deliver whole, From bonds of this Tyrannic Soul? Which, stretcht upright, impales me so,That mine own Precipice I go;
And warms and moves this needless Frame:
(A Fever could but do the same.)
And, wanting where its spight to try, Has made me live to let me die.
A Body that could never rest, Since this ill Spirit it possest.
Soul
What Magic could me thus confine Within anothers Grief to pine? Where whatsoever it complain, I feel, that cannot feel, the pain.
And all my Care its self employes,
That to preserve, which me destroys:
Constrain'd not only to indure
Diseases, but, whats worse, the Cure:
And ready oft the Port to gain,
Am Shipwrackt into Health again.
The Maladies Thou me dost teach;
Whom first the Cramp of Hope does Tear:
And then the Palsie Shakes of Fear.
The Pestilence of Love does heat:
Or Hatred's hidden Ulcer eat.
Joy's chearful Madness does perplex:
Or Sorrow's other Madness vex.
Which Knowledge forces me to know;
And Memory will not foregoe.
What but a Soul could have the wit
To build me up for Sin so fit? So Architects do square and hew,
Green Trees that in the Forest grew.
* We studied this in my English class and I really enjoyed it. I thought I'd share it with whoever else might like it.
*I highlighted and bolded some of my favorite lines. I love the paradox and metaphors.
ラベル: AP, English, Marvell Andrew, poety
