MARGARET CAVENDISH (1623-1673)
Of Shadow and Eccho
Pale Shadow once in Love fell with bright
Light.
Which makes Her still walk always in His sight,
And when He's absent, then, poor Soul, she Dies,
But when He shows himself, Her Life revives.
She Sister is to Eccho loud and clear,
Whose voice is heard, no Body doth appear;
She hates to see or show Her self to men,
Unless Narcissus could rivive again:
But there two Souls (for they no Bodies have)
Do wander in theAir to see a Grave;
Silence would bury one, the other Night,
But was denied by Repercussion's spight;
And both are subject to the Eye and Ear;
For one we see, and the other we do hear.
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Just in time for Mothers Day, the following piece by Margaret
Cavendish, courtesy of the Women Writers Project. Cavendish, duchess
of Newcastle (1623-1673), was a prolific writer of drama, philosophy,
poetry and scientific writing. This piece appeared in her book,
"The World's Olio," a wide-ranging collection of reflections
on culture, science, nature, education, and the human condition.
(The word "olio" means "mixture.")