Page:The Pleasures of Imagination - Akenside (1744).djvu/107

Nor questions more the music's mingling sounds
Than space, or motion, or eternal time:
So sweet he feels their influence to attract
The fixed soul; to brighten the dull glooms505
Of care, and make the destin'd road of life
Delightful to his feet. So fables tell,
Th' adventurous heroe, bound on hard exploits,
Beholds with glad surprize, by secret spells
Of some kind sage, the patron of his toils,510
A visionary paradise disclos'd
Amid the dubious wild: with streams, and shades,
And airy songs, th' enchanted landskip smiles,
Cheers his long labours and renews his frame.

What then is taste, but these internal pow'rs515
Active, and strong, and feelingly alive
To each fine impulse? a discerning sense
Of decent and sublime, with quick disgust
From things deform'd, or disarrang'd, or gross
In species? This, nor gems, nor stores of gold,520
Nor purple state, nor culture can bestow;
But God alone, when first his active hand
Imprints the secret byass of the soul.
He, mighty parent! wise and just in all,
Free as the vital breeze or light of heav'n,525
Reveals the charms of nature. Ask the swain
Who journeys homeward from a summer day's
Long labour, why, forgetful of his toils

And