Archive for December 21st, 2014

Sunday, 21 December 2014

Excerpt from “A Dream” by Rachel Speght

My grief, quoth I, is called Ignorance,
Which makes me differ little from a brute,
For animals are led by nature’s lore,
Their seeming science is but custom’s fruit;
When they are hurt they have a sense of pain,
But want the sense to cure themselves again.

And ever since this grief did me oppress,
Instinct of nature is my chiefest guide.
I feel disease, yet know not what I ail,
I find a sore, but can no salve provide;
I hungry am, yet cannot seek for food,
Because I know not what is bad or good.

And sometimes when I seek the golden mean,
My weakness makes me fail of mine intent,
That suddenly I fall into extremes,
Nor can I see a mischief to prevent,
But see the pain when I the peril find,
Because my malady doth make me blind.

What is without the compass of my braine,
My sickness makes me say it cannot be;
What I conceive not, cannot come to pass,
Because for it I can no reason see.
I measure all men’s feet by mine own shoe,
And count all well, which I appoint or do.

The pestilent effects of my disease
Exceed report, their number is so great;
The evils, which through it I do incur,
Are more than I am able to repeat.
Wherefore, good Thought I sue to thee again,
To tell me how my cure I may obtain.


Date: 1621

By: Rachel Speght (1597-16??)