Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE SOW OF FEELING, by ROBERT FERGUSSON


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE SOW OF FEELING, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Malignant planets! Do ye still combine
Last Line: Life, to be numbered 'mongst the feeling swine.
Alternate Author Name(s): Ferguson, Robert
Subject(s): Grief; Marriage; Mourning; Sorrow; Sadness; Weddings; Husbands; Wives; Bereavement


MALIGNANT planets! do ye still combine
Against this wayward, dreary life of mine!
Has pitiless oppression—cruel case!
Gained sole possession of the human race?
By cruel hands has ev'ry virtue bled,
And innocence from men to vultures fled!
Thrice happy, had I lived in Jewish time,
When swallowing pork or pig was doomed a crime;
My husband long had blest my longing arms,
Long, long had known love's sympathetic charms!
My children too—a little suckling race,
With all their father growing in their face,
From their prolific dam had ne'er been torn,
Nor to the bloody stalls of butchers borne.
Ah! luxury! to you my being owes
Its load of misery—its load of woes!
With heavy heart, I saunter all the day,
Gruntle and murmur all my hours away!
In vain I try to summon old desire,
For favourite sports—for wallowing in the mire:
Thoughts of my husband—of my children slain,
Turn all my wonted pleasure into pain!
How oft did we, in Phoebs' warming ray,
Bask on the humid softness of the clay?
Oft did his lusty head defend my tail
From the rude whispers of the angry gale;
While nose-refreshing puddles streamed around,
And floating odours hailed the dung-clad ground.
Near by a rustic mill's enchanting clack,
Where plenteous bushels load the peasant's back,
In straw-crowned hovel, there to life we came,
One boar our father and one sow our dam:
While tender infants on the mother's breast,
A flame divine on either shone confessed;
In riper hours love's more than ardent blaze
Enkindled all his passion, all his praise!
No deadly, sinful passion fired his soul,
Virtue o'er all his actions gained control!
That cherub which attracts the female heart,
And makes them soonest with their beauty part,
Attracted mine:—I gave him all my love,
In the recesses of a verdant grove:
'Twas there I list'ned to his warmest vows,
Amidst the pendant melancholy boughs;
'Twas there my trusty lover shook for me
A show'r of acorns from the oaken tree;
And from the teeming earth, with joy, ploughed out
The roots salubrious with his hardy snout.
But Happiness, a floating meteor thou,
That still inconstant art to man and sow,
Left us in gloomiest horrors to reside,
Near by the deep-dyed sanguinary tide,
Where whetting steel prepares the butch'ring knives,
With greater ease to take the harmless lives
Of cows, and calves, and sheep, and hog, who fear
The bite of bull-dogs, that incessant tear
Their flesh, and keenly suck the blood-distilling ear!
At length the day, th' eventful day drew near,
Detested cause of many a briny tear!
I'll weep till sorrow shall my eyelids drain,
A tender husband, and a brother slain!
Alas! the lovely languor of his eye,
When the base murd'rers bore him captive by!
His mournful voice! the music of his groans,
Had melted any hearts—but hearts of stones!
O! had some angel at that instant come,
Giv'n me four nimble fingers and a thumb,
The blood-stained blade I'd turned upon his foe.
And sudden sent him to the shades below—
Where, or Pythagoras' opinion jests,
Beasts are made butchers—butchers changed to beasts.
In early times the law had wise decreed,
For human food but reptiles few should bleed;
But monstrous man, still erring from the laws,
The curse of heaven on his banquet draws!
Already has he drained the marshes dry
For frogs, new emblems of his luxury;
And soon the toad and lizard will come home,
Pure victims to the hungry glutton's womb:
Cats, rats and mice their destiny may mourn,
In time their carcases on spits must turn;
They may rejoice today—while I resign
Life, to be numbered 'mongst the feeling swine.





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