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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=454972" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Pleasures of Imagination: Book The Fourth</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">One effort more, one cheerful sally more,<br>Our destin'd course will finish. and in peace<br>Then, for an offering sacred to the powers<br>Who lent us gracious guidance, we will then<br>Inscribe a monument of deathless praise,<br>O my adventurous song. With steady speed<br>Long hast thou, on an untried voyage bound,<br>Sail'd between earth and heaven: hast now survey'd,<br>Stretch'd out beneath thee, all the mazy tracts<br>Of passion and opinion; like a waste<br>Of sands and flowery lawns and tangling woods,<br>Where mortals roam bewilder'd: and hast now<br>Exulting soar'd among the worlds above,<br>Or hover'd near the eternal gates of heaven,<br>If haply the discourses of the Gods,<br>A curious, but an unpresuming guest,<br>Thou might'st partake, and carry back some strain<br>Of divine wisdom, lawful to repeat,<br>And apt to be conceiv'd of man below.<br>A different task remains; the secret paths<br>Of early genius to explore: to trace<br>Those haunts where Fancy her predestin'd sons,<br>Like to the Demigods of old, doth nurse<br>Remote from eyes profane. Ye happy souls<br>Who now her tender discipline obey,<br>Where dwell ye? What wild river's brink at eve<br>Imprint your steps? What solemn groves at noon<br>Use ye to visit, often breaking forth<br>In rapture 'mid your dilatory walk,<br>Or musing, as in slumber, on the green?<br>—Would i again were with you!—O ye dales<br>Of Tyne, and ye most ancient woodlands; where<br>Oft as the giant flood obliquely strides,<br>And his banks open, and his lawns extend,<br>Stops short the pleased traveller to view<br>Presiding o'er the scene some rustic tower<br>Founded by Norman or by Saxon hands:<br>O ye Northumbrian shades, which overlook<br>The rocky pavement and the mossy falls<br>Of solitary Wensbeck's limpid stream;<br>How gladly i recall your well-known seats<br>Belov'd of old, and that delightful time<br>When all alone, for many a summer's day,<br>I wander'd through your calm recesses, led<br>In silence by some powerful hand unseen.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nor will i e'er forget you. nor shall e'er<br>The graver tasks of manhood, or the advice<br>Of vulgar wisdom, move me to disclaim<br>Those studies which possess'd me in the dawn<br>Of life, and fix'd the color of my mind<br>For every future year: whence even now<br>From sleep i rescue the clear hours of morn,<br>And, while the world around lies overwhelm'd<br>In idle darkness, am alive to thoughts<br>Of honourable fame, of truth divine<br>Or moral, and of minds to virtue won<br>By the sweet magic of harmonious verse;<br>The themes which now expect us. For thus far<br>On general habits, and on arts which grow<br>Spontaneous in the minds of all mankind,<br>Hath dwelt our argument; and how self-taught,<br>Though seldom conscious of their own imploy,<br>In nature's or in fortune's changeful scene<br>Men learn to judge of beauty, and acquire<br>Those forms set up, as idols in the soul<br>For love and zealous praise. Yet indistinct,<br>In vulgar bosoms, and unnotic'd lie<br>These pleasing stores, unless the casual force<br>Of things external prompt the heedless mind<br>To recognize her wealth. But some there are<br>Conscious of nature, and the rule which man<br>O'er nature holds: some who, within themselves<br>Retiring from the trivial scenes of chance<br>And momentary passion, can at will<br>Call up these fair exemplars of the mind;<br>Review their features; scan the secret laws<br>Which bind them to each other: and display<br>By forms, or sounds, or colours, to the sense<br>Of all the world their latent charms display:<br>Even as in nature's frame (if such a word,<br>If such a word, so bold, may from the lips<br>Of man proceed) as in this outward frame<br>Of things, the great artificer pourtrays<br>His own immense idea. Various names<br>These among mortals bear, as various signs<br>They use, and by peculiar organs speak<br>To human sense. These are who by the flight<br>Of air through tubes with moving stops distinct,<br>Or by extended chords in measure taught<br>To vibrate, can assemble powerful sounds<br>Expressing every temper of the mind<br>From every cause, and charming all the soul<br>With passion void of care. Others mean time<br>The rugged mass of metal, wood, or stone<br>Patiently taming; or with easier hand<br>Describing lines, and with more ample scope<br>Uniting colors; can to general sight<br>Produce those permanent and perfect forms,<br>Those characters of heroes and of gods,<br>Which from the crude materials of the world<br>Their own high minds created. But the chief<br>Are poets; eloquent men, who dwell on earth<br>To clothe whate'er the soul admires or loves<br>With language and with numbers. Hence to these<br>A field is open'd wide as nature's sphere;<br>Nay, wider: various as the sudden acts<br>Of human wit, and vast as the demands<br>Of human will. The bard nor length, nor depth,<br>Nor place, nor form controuls. To eyes, to ears,<br>To every organ of the copious mind,<br>He offereth all its treasures. Him the hours,<br>The seasons him obey: and changeful Time<br>Sees him at will keep measure with his flight,<br>At will outstrip it. To enhance his toil,<br>He summoneth from the uttermost extent<br>Of things which God hath taught him, every form<br>Auxiliar, every power; and all beside<br>Excludes imperious. His prevailing hand<br>Gives, to corporeal essence, life and sense<br>And every stately function of the soul.<br>The soul itself to him obsequious lies,<br>Like matter's passive heap; and as he wills,<br>To reason and affection he assigns<br>Their just alliances, their just degrees:<br>Whence his peculiar honors; whence the race<br>Of men who people his delightful world,<br>Men genuine and according to themselves,<br>Transcend as far the uncertain sons of earth,<br>As earth itself to his delightful world<br>The palm of spotless beauty doth resign.</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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Our destin'd course will finish. and in peace
Then, for an offering sacred to the powers
Who lent us gracious guidance, we will then
Inscribe a monument of deathless praise,
O my adventurous song. With ste..."></div>
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