The pleasures of imagination
dc.contributor | Burnard, Lou Computing Service, University of Oxford |
dc.contributor.author | Akenside, Mark, 1721-1770 |
dc.date.accessioned | 2018-07-27 |
dc.date.accessioned | 2022-08-21T16:15:24Z |
dc.date.available | 2022-08-21T16:15:24Z |
dc.date.created | 1744 |
dc.date.issued | 1980-01-01 |
dc.identifier | ota:0392 |
dc.identifier.uri | http://hdl.handle.net/20.500.14106/0392 |
dc.description.abstract | Title proper taken from the main portion of the title of the earliest printed copy to hand: 4th ed., 1744 This text is incomplete |
dc.format.extent | Text data (1 file : ca. 83 KB) |
dc.format.medium | Digital bitstream |
dc.language | English |
dc.language.iso | eng |
dc.publisher | University of Oxford |
dc.relation.ispartof | Oxford Text Archive Legacy Collection |
dc.rights | Distributed by the University of Oxford under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. |
dc.rights.uri | http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/3.0/ |
dc.rights.label | PUB |
dc.subject.lcsh | Poems -- Great Britain -- 18th century |
dc.subject.other | Poems |
dc.title | The pleasures of imagination |
dc.type | Text |
has.files | yes |
branding | Oxford Text Archive |
files.size | 85001 |
files.count | 1 |
identifier.ee | Akenside, Mark, 1721-1770 http://dx.doi.org/10.13051/ee:bio/akensmark0000049 |
identifier.lccn | Akenside, Mark, 1721-1770 http://id.loc.gov/authorities/names/n83170964 |
otaterms.date.range | 1700-1799 |
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<B 1> <P 5> <L 1> With what attractive charms this goodly frame Of nature touches the consenting hearts Of mortal men, and what the pleasing stores Which beauteous Imitation thence derives <P 6> To deck the poet's, or the painter's toil, My verse unfolds. Attend, ye gentle powers Of musical delight! and, while I sing Your gifts, your honours, dance around my strain. Thou, smiling queen of every tuneful breast, Indulgent Fancy! from the fruitful banks Of Avon, whence thy rosy fingers cull Fresh flowers and dews to sprinkle on the turf Where Shakespeare lies, be present; and with thee Let Fiction come, upon her vagrant wings Wafting ten thousand colours through the air, And, by the glances of her magic eye, Combining each in endless fairy forms, Her wild creation. Goddess of the lyre Which rules the accents of the moving sphere, Wilt thou, eternal Harmon! descend And join this festive train? for with thee comes The guide, the guardian of their lovely sports, Majestic Truth; and where Tru . . .