The native honours of the human foul, Nor fo effac'd the image of its fire.
ON TAST E.
SAY, what is tafte, but the internal pow'rs
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.
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 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.
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 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.
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