ODE I. Allusion to HORACE. Mark Akenside Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. T42068 K027268.000 Akenside, Mark, 1721-1770. Odes on several subjects. London printed for R. Dodsley. And sold by M. Cooper. M.DCC.XLV. 1745 pp. []-8. 54p.; 4⁰.

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ODE I. Allusion to HORACE . — Ego , apis Matinae More , modoque , &c. Lib. iv . Od. ii . AMID the garden's fragrance laid , Where yonder limes behold their shade Along the glassy stream , With HORACE and his tuneful ease I'll rest from crouds , and care's disease , And summer's piercing beam . Behold the busy , wand'ring BEE ! From bloom to bloom , from tree to tree She sweeps mellifluous dews ; For her the silken gems arise , For her display their shining dyes , Their balmy breath diffuse . Sweet murmurer ! may no rude storm This pleasurable scene deform To check thy gladsome toils ; Still may the buds unsullied spring , Still show'rs and sunshine court thy wing To these ambrosial spoils . Nor shall my Muse hereafter fail Her fellow-lab'rer thus to hail , And lucky be the strains ! For long ago did nature frame Your seasons and your arts the same , Your pleasures and your pains . Like thee , in lowly , sylvan scenes , And river-banks and fruitful greens Delights my vagrant song ; Nor strives , by soaring high in air , Tho' swans and eagles triumph there , To draw the giddy throng . Nor where the rayen , where the owl By night their hateful orgies howl , Will she her cares imploy ; But flies from ruines and from graves , From ghostly cells and monkish caves To day-light and to joy . Nor will she tempt the barren waste ; Nor ' deigns th' ungrateful stores to taste Of any noxious thing ; But leaves with scorn to others' use The bitter hemlock's baneful juice , The nettles fordid sting . From all which nature fairest knows , The vernal blooms , the surnmer rose , She draws her mingled wealth ; And when the lovely task is done , She consecrates a double boon , To pleasure and to health .