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Mark Akenside

Mark Akenside

Female Beauty

Felices ter et amplius
Quos irrupta tenet Copula, nec malis
Divulsus querimoniis,
Suprema citius solvet amor die.
 
What’s Female Beauty, but an Art divine,
Through which the Mind’s all gentle Graces shine?
They like the Sun irradiate all between;
The Body charms, because the Mind is seen.

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Altre opere di Mark Akenside...
The Pleasures of Imagination

BOOK I With what attractive charms this g… Of Nature touches the consenting… Of mortal men; and what the pleasi… Which beauteous imitation thence d…
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Ode IX. to Curio

Thrice hath the spring beheld thy… Since I exulting grasp’d the tune… Eager through endless years to sou… Proud that my memory with thine sh… How hast thou stain’d the splendor…
Ode XIII: to the Author of Memoirs of the House of Brandenburgh

The men renown’d as chiefs of huma… And born to lead in counsels or in… Have seldom turn’d their feet from… To dwell with books or court the… Yet, to our eyes if haply time hat…
Ode VI: to William Hall, Esquire: With the Works of Chaulieu

Attend to Chaulieu’s wanton lyre; While, fluent as the sky-lark sing… When first the morn allures it’s w… The epicure his theme pursues: And tell me if, among the choir
Ode on a Sermon Against Glory

Come then, tell me, sage divine, Is it an offence to own That our bosoms e’er incline Toward immortal glory’s throne? For with me nor pomp, nor pleasure…
The Poet

—A Rhapsody Of all the various lots around the… Which fate to man distributes, abs… Avert, ye gods! that of the Muse’… Curs’d with dire poverty! poor hun…
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Ode IV: Affected Indifference. to the Same

Yes: you contemn the perjur’d maid Who all your favorite hopes betray… Nor, though her heart should home… Her tuneful tongue it’s falsehood… Her winning eyes your faith implor…
Ode XVII: on a Sermon Against Glory

Come then, tell me, sage divine, Is it an offence to own That our bosoms e’er incline Toward immortal glory’s throne? For with me nor pomp, nor pleasure…
The Complaint

AWAY! away! Tempt me no more, insidious Love: Thy soothing sway Long did my youthful bosom prove: At length thy treason is discern’d…
Ode III: to a Friend, Unsuccessful in Love

Indeed, my Phædria, if to find That wealth can female wishes gain Had e’er disturb’d your thoughtful… Or cost one serious moment’s pain, I should have said that all the ru…
Ode VIII: on Leaving Holland

I 1. Farewell to Leyden’s lonely bound… The Belgian Muse’s sober seat; Where dealing frugal gifts around To all the favorites at her feet,
Ode X: to Thomas Edwards, Esquire: on the Late Edition of Mr. Pope’s Work

Believe me, Edwards, to restrain The licence of a railer’s tongue Is what but seldom men obtain By sense or wit, by prose or song: A task for more Herculean powers,
The Pleasures of Imagination: Book the Second

When shall the laurel and the voca… Resume their honours? When shall… The tuneful tongue, the Promethéa… Aspire to ancient praise? Alas! h… How slow the dawn of beauty and of…
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Hymn to Science

Science! thou fair effusive ray From the great source of mental da… Free, generous, and refin’d! Descend with all thy treasures fra… Illumine each bewilder’d thought,
A Song

The Shape alone let others prize, The Features of the Fair; I look for Spirit in her Eyes, And Meaning in her Air. A Damask Cheek, an Iv’ry Arm,



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