Milton has Eve say of her dream of the fatal apple:
... The pleasant sav'ry smell
So quickened appetite, that I, methought,
Could not but taste.
Likewise with the sense of touch:
... I take thy hand, this hand
As soft as dove's down, and as white as it.
Imagine a person devoid of delicate tactile imagery, with senseless finger tips and leaden footsteps, undertaking to interpret these exquisite lines:
Thus I set my printless feet
O'er the cowslip's velvet head,
That bends not as I tread.
Shakespeare thus appeals to the muscular imagery:
At last, a little shaking of mine arm
And thrice his head thus waving up and down,
He raised a sigh so piteous and profound
As it did seem to shatter all his bulk
And end his being.
Many passages like the following appeal to the temperature images:
Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,
Thou dost not bite so nigh
As benefits forgot!