Mark Akenside

"Youth calls for Pleasure, Pleasure calls for Love."

"Seeks painted trifles and fantastic toys, And eagerly pursues imaginary joys."

"O'er yonder eastern hill the twilight pale Walks forth from darkness; and the God of day, With bright Astraea seated by his side, Waits yet to leave the ocean."

"The man forget not, though in rags he lies, And know the mortal through a crown's disguise."

"Can art, alas! or genius guide the head Where truth and freedom from the heart are fled? Can lesser wheels repeat their native stroke, When the prime function of the soul is broke?"

"Pall on her temper, like a twice-told tale."

"Is aught so fair In all the dewy landscapes of the spring, In the bright eye of Hesper or the morn, In nature's fairest forms, is aught so fair As virtuous friendship? as the candid blush Of him who strives with fortune to be just? The graceful tear that streams for others' woes? Or the mild majesty of private life, Where peace with ever blooming olive crowns The gate; where Honour's liberal hands effuse Unenvied treasures, and the snowy wings Of Innocence and Love protect the scene?"

"Man loves knowledge, and the beams of truth More welcome touch his understanding's eye Than all the blandishments of sound his ear, Than all of taste his tongue."

"Oft the hours From morn to eve have stolen unmark'd away, While mute attention hung upon his lips."

"Ask the faithful youth Why the cold urn of her whom long he loved So often fills his arms; so often draws His lonely footsteps at the silent hour To pay the mournful tribute of his tears? Oh! he will tell thee that the wealth of worlds Should ne'er seduce his bosom to forego That sacred hour, when, stealing from the noise Of care and envy, sweet remembrance soothes With virtue's kindest looks his aching breast, And turns his tears to rapture."

"Others of graver mien; behold, adorn'd With holy ensigns, how sublime they move, And bending oft their sanctimonious eyes Take homage of the simple-minded throng; Ambassadors of heaven!"

"Adieu, for him, The dull engagements of the bustling world! Adieu the sick impertinence of praise! And hope, and action! for with her alone, By streams and shades, to steal these sighing hours, Is all he asks, and all that fate can give!"

"Such and so various are the tastes of men!"

"The Providence of heaven Has some peculiar blessing given To each allotted state below."

"Heaven's all-subduing will, With good the progeny of ill, Attempreth every state below."

"Than Timoleon's arms require, And Tully's curule chair, and Milton's golden lyre."

"Rustic herald of the spring."