Date: 1744, 1772, 1795

"So all things which have life aspire to God, / The sun of being, boundless, unimpair'd, / Center of souls!"

— Akenside, Mark (1720-1771)

Date: 1744, 1772, 1795

"Her the sire / Gave it in charge to rear the blooming mind, / The folded powers to open, to direct / The growth luxuriant of his young desires, / And from the laws of this majestic world / To teach him what was good."

— Akenside, Mark (1720-1771)

Date: 1744, 1772, 1795

"Nor only by the warmth / And soothing sunshine of delightful things, / Do minds grow up and flourish."

— Akenside, Mark (1720-1771)

Date: 1744, 1772, 1795

"Oft misled / By that bland light, the young unpractis'd views / Of reason wander through a fatal road, / Far from their native aim."

— Akenside, Mark (1720-1771)

Date: 1744, 1772, 1795

"Has thy constant heart refus'd / The silken fetters of delicious ease?"

— Akenside, Mark (1720-1771)

Date: 1744, 1772, 1795

"The immortal mind, superior to his fate, / Amid the outrage of external things, / Firm as the solid base of this great world, / Rests on his own foundations."

— Akenside, Mark (1720-1771)

Date: 1744, 1772, 1795

"Vehement and swift / As lightening fires the aromatic shade / In Æthiopian fields, the stripling felt / Her inspiration catch his fervid soul, / And starting from his languor thus exclaim'd."

— Akenside, Mark (1720-1771)

Date: 1744, 1772, 1795

"Need I urge / Thy tardy thought through all the various round / Of this existence, that thy softening soul / At length may learn what energy the hand / Of virtue mingles in the bitter tide / Of passion swelling with distress and pain, / To mitigate the sharp with gracious drops / Of cordial plea...

— Akenside, Mark (1720-1771)

Date: 1744, 1772, 1795

"Defil'd to such a depth of sordid shame / The native honours of the human soul, / Nor so effac'd the image of its sire."

— Akenside, Mark (1720-1771)

Date: 1744, 1772, 1795

"From the wise be far / Such gross unhallow'd pride; nor needs my song / Descend so low; but rather now unfold, / If human thought could reach, or words unfold, / By what mysterious fabric of the mind, / The deep-felt joys and harmony of sound / Result from airy motion; and from shape / The lovel...

— Akenside, Mark (1720-1771)