The poetical works of Mark AkensideContaining his Pleasures of imagination, Odes, Miscellanies, Hymns, Inscriptions, & . ciU, To form the life, and rule the will, Propitious Powr ! impart ; Teach me to cool my paffions fires. Make me the judge of my defires. The mafter of my heart. 7a XIII. Raife me above the vulgars breath, Purfuit of fortune, fear of death. And all in life thats mean ; Still true to Reafon be my plan, Still let my actions fpeak the man Throevry various fcene. 78 84 HYMNS. 157 XIV. Hail! queen of Manners, light of Truth j Hail! charm of age, and guide of youth. Sweet refug


The poetical works of Mark AkensideContaining his Pleasures of imagination, Odes, Miscellanies, Hymns, Inscriptions, & . ciU, To form the life, and rule the will, Propitious Powr ! impart ; Teach me to cool my paffions fires. Make me the judge of my defires. The mafter of my heart. 7a XIII. Raife me above the vulgars breath, Purfuit of fortune, fear of death. And all in life thats mean ; Still true to Reafon be my plan, Still let my actions fpeak the man Throevry various fcene. 78 84 HYMNS. 157 XIV. Hail! queen of Manners, light of Truth j Hail! charm of age, and guide of youth. Sweet refuge of diftrefs j In busnefs thou exaft, polite 5 Thou givft retirement its delight, Profperity its grace. XV. Of wealth, powr, freedom, thou the caufe j Foundrefs of order, cities, laws 5 Of arts inventrefs, thou ! Without thee what were humankind ? How vaft their wants, their thoughts how blind, Their joys how mean, how few 1 XVI. Sun of the foul! thy beams unveil j Let others fpread the daring fail On Fortunes faithlels lea, While undeluded, happier I From the vain tumult timely fly. And fit in peace with thee. 96 00. INSCRIPTIONS. A GROTTO. TO me, whom in their lays the fhepherds callAt^lsea, daughter of the neighboring ftream,This cave belongs. The fig-tree and the vine,Which oer the rocky entrance downward placd by Glycon: he with cowilips pale, 5 Primrofe and purple lychnis, deckd the greenBefore my threfhold, and my flaelving wallsWith honeyfuckle coverd. Here at noon,Luird by the murmur of my rifing fount,I fiumber : here my cluft*ring fruits I tend, 10 Or from the humid flowrs at break of dayFrelh garlands weave, and chafe from all my boundsEach thing impure or noxious. Enter in,O Stranger 1 undifmayd ; nor bat nor toadHere lurks ; and if thy breaft of blamelefs thoughts 15Approve thee, not unwelcome fhalt thou treadMy quiet manfion, chiefly if thy nameWife Pallas and th immortal Mufes own. 18 A STATUE OF CMAUCER, AT WOODSTOCK. CUCH was old Chauc


Size: 2098px × 1191px
Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No

Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1800, booksubjectpoetry, bookyear1800