Page:The Pleasures of Imagination - Akenside (1744).djvu/71

This horrid visage hither to pursue
My steps; that so thy nature may discern
Its real good, and what alone can save
Thy feeble spirit in this hour of ill575
From folly and despair. O yet belov'd!
Let not this headlong terror quite o'erwhelm
Thy scatter'd pow'rs; nor fatal deem the rage
Of this tormentor, nor his proud assault,
While I am here to vindicate thy toil,580
Above the generous question of thy arm,
Brave by thy fears, and in thy weakness strong,
This hour he triumphs; but confront his might,
And dare him to the combat, then with ease
Disarm'd and quell'd, his fierceness he resigns585
To bondage and to scorn: while thus inur'd
By watchful danger, by unceasing toil,
Th' immortal mind, superior to his fate,
Amid the outrage of external things,
Firm as the solid base of this great world,590
Rests on his own foundations. Blow, ye winds!
Ye waves! ye thunders! rowl your tempest on;
Shake, ye old pillars of the marble sky!
Till all its orbs and all its worlds of fire
Be loosen'd from their seats; yet still serene,595
The unconquer'd mind looks down upon the wreck,
And ever stronger as the storms advance,
Firm thro' the closing ruin holds his way,
Where nature calls him to the destin'd goal.