The Poetical Works of Mark Akenside: With the Life of the Author, Band 2

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B. Johnson, 31, J. Johnson, 147, High Street, & R. Johnson, 2, North Third Street, 1804

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Seite 91 - Fresh pleasure only: for the attentive mind By this harmonious action on her powers Becomes herself harmonious: wont so oft In outward things to meditate the charm Of sacred order, soon she seeks at home To find a kindred order, to exert Within herself this elegance of love, This fair inspir'd delight: her temper'd powers Refine at length, and every passion wears A chaster, milder, more attractive mien.
Seite 153 - So often fills his arms ; so often draws His lonely footsteps, at the silent hour, To pay the mournful tribute of his tears ? Oh ! he will tell thee, that the wealth of worlds Should ne'er seduce his bosom to forego That sacred hour, when, stealing from the noise Of care and envy, sweet remembrance soothes With Virtue's kindest looks his aching breast, And turns his tears to rapture.
Seite 13 - From Heaven my strains begin: from Heaven descends The flame of genius to the human breast, And love and beauty, and poetic joy And inspiration. Ere the radiant sun Sprang from the east, or 'mid the vault of night The moon suspended her serener lamp; Ere mountains, woods, or streams adorn'd the...
Seite 90 - Of envied life ; though only few possess Patrician treasures or imperial state ; Yet Nature's care, to all her children just, With richer treasures and an ampler state, Endows at large whatever happy man Will deign to use them. His the city's pomp, The rural honours his. Whate'er adorns The princely dome, the column and the arch, The breathing marbles and the sculptur'd gold, Beyond the proud possessor's narrow claim, His tuneful breast enjoys.
Seite 18 - Through fields of air; pursues the flying storm; Rides on the vollied lightning through the heavens; Or, yoked with whirlwinds and the northern blast, Sweeps the long tract of day. Then high she soars The blue profound, and hovering round the sun Beholds him pouring the redundant stream Of light; beholds his unrelenting sway Bend the reluctant planets to absolve The fated rounds of Time.
Seite 91 - Refine at length, and every passion wears A chaster, milder, more attractive mien. But if to ampler prospects, if to gaze On Nature's form, where, negligent of all These lesser graces, she assumes the port Of that eternal majesty that weigh'd . The world's foundations, if to these the mind Exalts her daring eye ; then mightier far Will be the change, and nobler, Would the forms Of servile custom cramp her generous powers?
Seite 144 - Wheeling unshaken through the void immense ; And speak, O man ! does this capacious scene With half that kindling majesty dilate Thy strong conception, as when Brutus rose Refulgent from the stroke of Caesar's fate, Amid the crowd of patriots ; and his arm Aloft extending, like eternal Jove When guilt brings down the thunder, call'd aloud On Tully's name, and shook his crimson steel, And bade the father of his country hail ? For lo ! the tyrant prostrate on the dust, And Rome again is free...
Seite 85 - O'er all creation. From the wise be far Such gross unhallow'd pride ; nor needs my song Descend so low ; but rather now unfold, If human thought could reach, or words unfold, By what mysterious fabric of the mind, The deep-felt joys and harmony of sound Result from airy motion ; and from shape 460 The lovely phantoms of sublime and fair. By what fine ties hath God connected things When present in the mind, which in themselves Have no connection...
Seite 13 - Then liv'd the almighty One : then, deep retir'd In his unfathom'd essence, view'd the forms, The forms eternal of created things ; The radiant sun, the/ moon's nocturnal lamp, The mountains, woods, and streams, the rolling globe, And wisdom's mien celestial. From the first Of days, on them his love divine he fix'd, His admiration : till in time complete, What he admir'd and lov'd, his vital smile Unfolded into being.
Seite 90 - For him, the Spring Distils her dews, and from the silken gem Its lucid leaves unfolds : for him, the hand Of Autumn tinges every fertile branch With blooming gold, and blushes like the morn.

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