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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=454963" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Ode XVI: To Caleb Hardinge, M.D.</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I.<br>With sordid floods the wintry Urn<br>Hath stain'd fair Richmond's level green:<br>Her naked hill the Dryads mourn,<br>No longer a poetic scene.<br>No longer there thy raptur'd eye<br>The beauteous forms of earth or sky<br>Surveys as in their Author's mind:<br>And London shelters from the year<br>Those whom thy social hours to share<br>The Attic Muse design'd.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">II.<br>From Hampstead's airy summit me<br>Her guest the city shall behold,<br>What day the people's stern decree<br>To unbelieving kings is told,<br>When common men (the dread of fame)<br>Adjudg'd as one of evil name,<br>Before the sun, the anointed head.<br>Then seek thou too the pious town,<br>With no unworthy cares to crown<br>That evening's awful shade.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">III.<br>Deem not i call thee to deplore<br>The sacred martyr of the day,<br>By fast and penitential lore<br>To purge our ancient guilt away.<br>For this, on humble faith i rest<br>That still our advocate, the priest,<br>From heavenly wrath will save the land;<br>Nor ask what rites our pardon gain,<br>Nor how his potent sounds restrain<br>The thunderer's lifted hand.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">IV.<br>No, Hardinge: peace to church and state!<br>That evening, let the Muse give law:<br>While i anew the theme relate<br>Which my first youth inamor'd saw.<br>Then will i oft explore thy thought,<br>What to reject which Locke hath taught,<br>What to pursue in Virgil's lay:<br>Till hope ascends to loftiest things,<br>Nor envies demagogues or kings<br>Their frail and vulgar sway.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">V.<br>O vers'd in all the human frame,<br>Lead thou where'er my labor lies,<br>And English fancy's eager flame<br>To Grecian purity chastize:<br>While hand in hand, at wisdom's shrine,<br>Beauty with truth i strive to join,<br>And grave assent with glad applause;<br>To paint the story of the soul,<br>And Plato's visions to controul<br>By Verulamian laws.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Mark+Akenside">Mark Akenside</a><div class=q>
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With sordid floods the wintry Urn
Hath stain'd fair Richmond's level green:
Her naked hill the Dryads mourn,
No longer a poetic scene.
No longer there thy raptur'd eye
The beauteous forms of earth or sky
Surveys as in their Author's mind:
And L..."></div>
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