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The native honcurs of the human foul,

Nor fo effac'd the image of its fire.

AKENSIDE.

CHA P.

XXV.

ON TASTE.

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

SA

Active, and ftrong, and feelingly alive
To each fine impulfe? a difcerning fenfe
Of decent and fublime, with quick difguft
From things deform'd, or difarrang'd, or grofs
In fpecies? This nor gems, nor ftores of gold,
Nor purple ftate, 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 sky; 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

every Of love and admiration, yet in vain,

breaft hath fown these early feeds

Without fair culture's kind parental aid,
Without enlivening funs, and genial show'rs,

And shelter 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 ftores
Repay the tiller's labour; or attend
His will, obfequious, whether to produce
The olive or the laurel: diff'rent minds
Incline to diff'rent objects: one pursues
The vaft alone, the wonderful, the wild;
Another fighs for harmony, and grace,

And gentleft beauty. Hence when lightning 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, Shakespear looks abroad
From fome high cliff, fuperior, and enjoys
The elemental war. But Waller longs,
All on the margin of fome flow'ry stream,
To fpread his careless limbs amid the cool
Of plantane fhades, and to the list'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 hill and dale with all their echoes mourn.
Such and fo various are the tastes of men.

AKENSIDE.

С НА Р.

CHA P. XXVI.

FROM A

THE PLEASURES ARISING
CULTIVATED IMAGINATION.

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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 th' 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 fate ;

Yet nature's care, to all her children just,
With richer treasures and an ampler ftate
Indows 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 fculptur'd gold,
Beyond the proud poffeffor's narrow claim,
His tuneful breaft enjoys. For him the fpring.
Diftills 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 sheds tribute from her wings;
And still new beauties meet his lonely walk,
And loves unfelt attract him. Not a breeze
Flies o'er the meadow, not a cloud imbibes-

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The fetting fun's effulgence, not a strain
From all the tenants of the warbling shade
Afcends, but whence his bofom can partake
Fresh pleafure, unreprov'd. Nor thence partakes
Fresh pleasure only for th' attentive mind
By this harmonious action on her pow'rs,
Becomes herfelf 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, the affumes the port
Of that eternal Majefty 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 fervile custom cramp her gen'rous pow'rs?
Would fordid policies, the barb'rous growth
Of ignorance and rapine, bow her down
To tame purfuits, to indolence and fear?
Lo! the appeals to nature, to the winds
And rolling waves, the fun's unwearied course,
The elements and feafons: 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 loye

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 God himself
Hold converfe: grow familiar, day by day,
With his conceptions, act upon his plan;
And form to his, the relish of their souls.

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