Page:The Pleasures of Imagination - Akenside (1744).djvu/106

Thro' all its tones the sympathy pursue;475
Nor yet this breath divine of nameless joy
Steal thro' his veins and fan th' awaken'd heart,
Mild as the breeze, yet rapturous as the song?

But were not nature still indow'd at large
With all which life requires, tho' unadorn'd480
With such inchantment? Wherefore then her form
So exquisitely fair? her breath perfum'd
With such æthereal sweetness? whence her voice
Inform'd at will to raise or to depress
Th' impassion'd soul? and whence the robes of light485
Which thus invest her with more lovely pomp
Than fancy can describe? Whence but from thee,
O source divine of ever-flowing love,
And thy unmeasur'd goodness? Not content
With every food of life to nourish man,490
By kind illusions of the wond'ring sense
Thou mak'st all nature beauty to his eye,
Or music to his ear: well-pleas'd he scans
The goodly prospect; and with inward smiles
Treads the gay verdure of the painted plain;495
Beholds the azure canopy of heav'n,
And living lamps that over-arch his head
With more than regal splendor; bends his ears
To the full choir of water, air, and earth;
Nor heeds the pleasing error of his thought,500
Nor doubts the painted green or azure arch,

Nor