conceit

In literary terms, a conceit is an extended metaphor or a complex analogy that compares two seemingly dissimilar things in a surprising and imaginative way. Unlike a regular metaphor, which might draw a simple and direct comparison between two things, a conceit involves a more elaborate and sustained analogy, often with multiple points of comparison.

Conceits are commonly found in poetry and were particularly popular during the Renaissance period. They allow poets to explore and develop intricate connections between different concepts, creating a rich and layered tapestry of meaning. The use of conceits often results in a heightened and intellectual style of expression.

Here's an example of a conceit:

John Donne's "A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning"

In this poem, Donne compares the love between himself and his wife to a compass, a drafting tool used to draw circles. The conceit unfolds across the entire poem, with Donne exploring the various ways in which the compass is analogous to the nature of their love. For instance, he suggests that just as the foot of the compass stays fixed while the other roams in a circle, one partner can physically move away while the other remains steadfast in love.

This extended metaphor provides a complex and sustained comparison, allowing Donne to delve deeply into the nuances of love and separation. The conceit helps to convey a more profound understanding of the emotions involved, making the poem more intricate and thought-provoking than a simple comparison might achieve.

A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning 

BY JOHN DONNE

As virtuous men pass mildly away,

   And whisper to their souls to go,

Whilst some of their sad friends do say

   The breath goes now, and some say, No:

So let us melt, and make no noise,

   No tear-floods, nor sigh-tempests move;

'Twere profanation of our joys

   To tell the laity our love.

Moving of th' earth brings harms and fears,

   Men reckon what it did, and meant;

But trepidation of the spheres,

   Though greater far, is innocent.

Dull sublunary lovers' love

   (Whose soul is sense) cannot admit

Absence, because it doth remove

   Those things which elemented it.

But we by a love so much refined,

   That our selves know not what it is,

Inter-assured of the mind,

   Care less, eyes, lips, and hands to miss.

Our two souls therefore, which are one,

   Though I must go, endure not yet

A breach, but an expansion,

   Like gold to airy thinness beat.

If they be two, they are two so

   As stiff twin compasses are two;

Thy soul, the fixed foot, makes no show

   To move, but doth, if the other do.

And though it in the center sit,

   Yet when the other far doth roam,

It leans and hearkens after it,

   And grows erect, as that comes home.

Such wilt thou be to me, who must,

   Like th' other foot, obliquely run;

Thy firmness makes my circle just,

   And makes me end where I begun.