He therefore, who would see his flowers disposed

Sightly and in just order, ere he gives

The beds the trusted treasure of their seeds,

Forecasts the future whole; that when the scene

Shall break into its preconceived display,

Each for itself, and all as with one voice

Conspiring, may attest his bright design.

Nor even then, dismissing as performed

His pleasant work, may he suppose it done.

Few self-supported flowers endure the wind

Uninjured, but expect the upholding aid

Of the smooth-shaven prop, and neatly tied

Are wedded thus, like beauty to old age

For interest sake, the living to the dead.

Some clothe the soil that feeds them, far diffused

And lowly creeping, modest and yet fair,

Like virtue, thriving most where little seen:

Some more aspiring catch the neighbour shrub

With clasping tendrils, and invest his branch,

Else unadorned, with many a gay festoon

And fragrant chaplet, recompensing well

The strength they borrow with the grace they lend.

All hate the rank society of weeds,

Noisome, and ever greedy to exhaust

The impoverished earth; an overbearing race,

That, like the multitude made faction-mad,

Disturb good order, and degrade true worth.

Oh blest seclusion from a jarring -world, Which he, thus occupied, enjoys! Retreat Cannot indeed to guilty man restore Lost innocence, or cancel follies past; But it has peace", and much secures the mind From all assaults of evil; proving still A faithful barrier, not o'erleaped with eas» By vicious custom, raging uncontrolled Abroad, and desolating public life. When fierce temptation, seconded -within By traitor appetite, and armed with darts Tempered in hell, invades the throbbing breast, To combat may be glorious, and success Perhaps may crown us; but to fly is safe. Had I the choice of sublunary good, What could I wish, that I possess not here? Health, leisure, means to improve it,friendship,peace. No loose or wanton, though a wandering, muse, And constant occupation without care. Thus blest I draw a picture of that bliss, Hopeless indeed that dissipated minds, And profligate abusers of a world Created fair so much in vain for them, Should seek the guiltless joys, that I describe, Allured by my report: but sure no less, That self-condemned they must neglect the prize. And what they will not taste must yet approve.

What we admire we praise; and when we praise,

Advance it into notice, that its worth

Acknowledged, others may admire it too.

I therefore recommend, though at the risk

Of popular disgust, yet boldly still,

The cause of piety and sacred truth,

And virtue, and those scenes, which God ordained

Should best secure them and promote them most;

Scenes that I love, and with regret perceive

Forsaken, or through folly not enjoyed.

Pure is the nymph, though liberal of her smiles,

And chaste, though unconfined, whom I extol.

Not as the prince in Shushan, when he called,

Vain-glorious of her charms, his Vashti forth

To grace the full pavilion. His design

Was but to boast his own peculiar good,

Which all might view with envy, none partake.

My charmer is not mine alone; my sweets,

And she, that sweetens all my bitters too,

Nature, enchanting nature, in whose form

And lineaments divine I trace a hand,

That, errs not, and find raptures still renewed,

Is free to all men—universal prize.

Strange that so fair a creature should yet want

Admirers, and be destined to divide

With meaner objects e'en the few she finds 1

Stripped qf her ornaments, her leaves and flowersj, She loses all her influence. Cities then

Attract us, and neglected Nature pines

Abandoned, as unworthy of our love.

But are not wholesome airs, though unperfumed

By roses; and clear suns, though scarcely felt;

And groves, if unharmonious, yet secure

From clamour, and whose very silence charms;

To be preferred to smoke, to the eclipse,

That Metropolitan volcanos make,

Whose Stygian throats breathe darkness all day long;

And to the stir of commerce, driving slow,

And thundering loud, with his ten thousand wheels?

They would be, were not madness in the head,

And folly in the heart; were England now,

What England was, plain, hospitable, kind,

And undebauched. But we have bid farewell

To all the virtues of those better days,

And all their honest pleasures. Mansions once

Knew their own masters; and laborious hinds,

Who had survived the father, served the son.

Now the legitimate and rightful lord

Is but a transient guest, newly arrived,

And sonn to be supplanted. He that saw

His patrimonial timber cast its leaf,

Sells the last scantling, and transfers the price

To some shrewd sharper, ere it buds again.

Estates are landscapes, gazed upon awhile.



Then advertised, and auctioneered away. \

The country starves, and they, that feed the o'er


And surfeited lewd town with her fair dues,
-By a just judgment strip and starve themselves.
The wings, that waft our riches out of sight,
Grow on the gamester's elbows; and the alert
And nimble motion of those restless joints,
That never tire, soon fans them all away.
Improvement too, the idol of the age,
Is fed with many a victim. Lo, he comes!
The omnipotent magician, Brown, appears!
Down falls the venerable pile, the abode
Of our forefathers—a grave whiskered race,
But tasteless. Springs a palace in its stead,
But in a distant spot; where more exposed
It may enjoy the advantage of the north,
And aguish east, till time shall have transformed
Those naked acres to a sheltering grove.
He speaks. The lake in front becomes a lawn;
Woods vanish, hills subside, and vallies rise;
And streams, as if created for his use,
Pursue the track of his directing wand,
Sinuous or straight, now rapid and now slow,
Now murmuring soft, now roaring in cascades—
Ev'n as he bids! The enraptured owner smiles.
'Tis finished, and yet, finished as it seems,


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