Page:The Pleasures of Imagination - Akenside (1744).djvu/53

II. From passion's pow'r alone our nature holds Essential pleasure. Passion's fierce illapse Rouzes the mind's whole fabric; with supplies Of daily impulse keeps th' elastic pow'rs Intensely poiz'd, and polishes anew By that collision all the fine machine: Else rust would rise, and foulness, by degrees Incumbring, choak at last what heav'n design'd For ceaseless motion and a round of toil. —But say, does every passion men endure Thus minister delight? That name indeed Becomes the rosy breath of love; becomes The radiant smiles of joy, th' applauding hand Of admiration: but the bitter show'r  That