Mark Akenside

Mark Akenside

Summary

Portrait of Mark Akenside Mark Akenside An Epistle to Curio (1744)

That thro' the Pageants of a Patriot's Name,
They pierc'd the Foulness of thy secret Aim;⁠40
Or deem'd thy Arm exalted but to throw
The public Thunder on a private Foe.
But I, whose Soul consented to thy Cause,
Who felt thy Genius stamp its own Applause,
Who saw the Spirits of each glorious Age⁠45
Move in thy Bosom and direct thy Rage;
I scorn'd th' ungenerous Gloss of slavish Minds,
The Owl-ey'd Race, whom Virtue's Lustre blinds.
Spite of the Learned in the Ways of Vice,
And all who prove that each Man has his Price,⁠50
I still believ'd thy End was just and free
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Mark Akenside Mark Akenside An Epistle to Curio (1744)

Paint all the noblest Trophies of your Guilt,⁠65
The Oaths you perjur'd and the Blood you spilt;
Yet must you one untempted Vileness own,
One dreadful Palm reserv'd for him alone;
With studied Arts his Country's Praise to spurn,
To beg the Infamy he did not earn,⁠70
To challenge Hate when Honour was his Due,
And plead his Crimes where all his Virtue knew.
Do Robes of State the guarded Heart inclose
From each fair Feeling human Nature knows?
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Mark Akenside Mark Akenside An Epistle to Curio (1744)

Shoot thro' thy Breast and stab the generous Birth,⁠260
Till blind with Smart, from Truth to Frenzy tost,
And all the Tenour of thy Reason lost,
Perhaps thy Anguish drains a real Tear;
While some with Pity, some with Laughter hear.
——Can Art, alas! or Genius guide the Head,⁠265
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?
Source: Wikisource

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