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The native honours of the human foul,
Nor fo effac'd the image of its fire.

CHAP. XXV.

ON TAST E.

SAY, what is tafte, but the internal pow'rs

AKENSIDE,

Active, and ftrong, and feelingly alive
To each fine impulfe? a difcerning fenfe
Of decent and fublime, with quick disguft
From things deform'd, or difarrang'd, or grofs
In fpecies? This nor gems, nor ftores of gold,
Nor purple state, nor culture can bestow?
But God alone, when firft his active hand
Imprints the facred bias of the foul,
He, mighty Parent! wife and juft in all,
Free as the vital breeze or light of heav'n,
Reveals the charms of nature.

Afk the fwain

Who journies homeward from a fummer-day's.
Long labour, why forgetful of his toils
And due repofe, he loiters to behold

The funfhine gleaming, as thro' amber clouds,
O'er all the western fky? Full foon, I ween,
His rude expreffion and untutor❜d airs,
Beyond the pow'r of language, will unfold
The form of beauty fmiling at his heart,
How lovely! how commanding! But tho' Heav'n
In ev'ry breaft hath fown thefe early feeds.
Of love and admiration, yet in vain,
Without fair Culture's kind parental aid,
Without enlivening funs, and genial show'rs,

And

And fhelter from the blaft, in vain we hope
The tender plant should rear its blooming head,

Or yield the harvest promis'd in its spring. -
Nor yet will every foil with equal stores
Repay the tiller's labour; or attend
His will, obfequious, whether to produce
The olive or the laurel: diff'rent mind's
Incline to diff'rent objects: one purfues
The vaft alone, the wonderful, the wild;
Another fighs for harmony, and grace,

And gentlest beauty. Hence when light'ning fires
The arch of heav'n, and thunders rock the ground;
When furious whirlwinds rend the howling air,
And Ocean, groaning from his lowest bed,
Heaves his tempeftuous billows to the sky;
Amid the mighty uproar, while below

The nations tremble, Shakspeare looks abroad
From fome high cliff, fuperior, and enjoys
The elemental war. But Waller longs,
All on the margin of some flow'ry stream,
To spread his careless limbs amid the cool
Of plantane fhades, and to the lift'ning deer,
The tale of flighted vows and Love's disdain
Refounds foft-warbling all the live-long day:
Confenting Zephyr fighs; the weeping rill
Joins in his plaint, melodious; mute the groves;
And hil and dale with all their echoes mourn.
Such and fo various are the taftes of men.

AKENSIDE.

СНАР.

CHAP. XXVI.

THE PLEASURES ARISING FROM A CULTIVATED IMAGINATION.

BLEST of Heav'n, whom not the languid fongs

Of Luxury, the Siren! not the bribes

Of fordid Wealth, nor all the gaudy spoils

Of pageant Honour, can feduce to leave

Thofe ever-blooming fweets which from the ftore,
Of Nature, fair Imagination culls

To charm the enliven'd foul! What tho' not all
Of mortal offspring can attain the height
Of envied life; tho' only few poffefs
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 ufe 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 poffeffor's narrow claim,
His tuneful breaft enjoys. For him the Spring
Distills her dews, and from the filken gem
Its lucid leaves unfolds: for him, the hand
Of Autumn tinges every fertile branch

With blooming gold, and blushes like the morn.
Each paffing hour fheds tribute from her wings;
And ftill new beauties, meet his lonely walk,
And loves unfelt attract him. Not a breeze
Flies o'er the meadow, not a cloud imbibes,

The

The fetting fun's effulgence, not a strain
From all the tenants of the warbling shade
Afcends, but whence his bofom can partake
Fresh pleasure, unreprov'd. Nor then partakes
Fresh pleasure only for th' attentive mind
By this harmonious action on her pow'rs,
Becomes herself harmonious: wont fo oft

:

In outward things to meditate the charm
Of facred Order, foon fhe feeks at home
To find a kindred order, to exert
Within herself this elegance of love,

This fair-infpir'd delight: her temper'd pow'rs
Refine at length, and every paffion wears
A chafter, milder, more attractive mien.`
But if to ampler profpects, if to gaze
On Nature's form, where negligent of all
Thefe leffer graces, fhe affumes the port
Of that eternal Majefty that weigh'd
The world's foundation; if to these the mind
Exalts her daring eye; then mightier far
Will be the change, and nobler. Would the forms.
Of fervile Custom cramp her gen'rous pow'rs?
Would fordid policies, the barb'rous growth
Of Ignorance and Rapine, bow her down
To tame pursuits, to indolence and fear?
Lo! fhe appeals to Nature, to the winds
And rolling waves, the fun's unwearied courfe,
The elements and seasons: all declare

For what th' eternal Maker has ordain'd
The pow'rs of man: we feel within ourselves
His
energy divine: he tells the heart,

He meant, he made us to behold and love

What he beholds and loves, the general orb
Of life and being; to be great like him,
Beneficent and active. Thus the men

Whom Nature's works can charm, with Gon himself
Hold converfe; grow familiar, day by day,
With his conceptions; act upon his plan;
And form to his, the relish of their fouls.

AKENSIDE,

BOOK

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