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Wafts the rich prize to its appointed use.
Not so when winter scowls.

Assistant Art

Then acts in Nature's office, brings to pass

The glad espousals, and ensures the crop.

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Grudge not, ye rich, (since Luxury must have His dainties, and the World's more num'rous half 545

Lives by contriving delicates for you,)

Grudge not the cost. Ye little know the cares
The vigilance, the labour, and the skill,

That day and night are exercis'd, and hang
Upon the ticklish balance of suspense,
That ye may garnish your profuse regales
With summer fruits brought forth by wintry suns.
Ten thousand dangers lie in wait to thwart

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The process. Heat, and cold, and wind, and steam, Moisture and drought, mice, worms, and swarming

flies,

Minute as dust, and numberless, oft work

Dire disappointment, that admits no cure,
And which no care can obviate. It were long,
Too long, to tell th' expedients and the shifts,
Which he that fights a season so severe
Devises while he guards his tender trust;
And oft at last in vain. The learn'd and wise
Sarcastick would exclaim, and judge the song
Cold as its theme, and like its theme the fruit
Of too much labour, worthless when produc'd.

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Who loves a garden loves a green-house too
Unconscious of a less propitious clime,
There blooms exotick beauty, warm and snug,
While the winds whistle and the snows descend,
The spiry myrtle with unwith'ring leaf
Shines there, and flourishes. The golden boast
Of Portugal and western India there,
The ruddier orange, and the paler lime

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Peep through their polish'd foliage at the storm,
And seem to smile at what they need not fear.
The amomum there with intermingling flow'rs

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And cherries hangs her twigs. Geranium boasts
Her crimson honours; and the spangled beau,
Ficoides glitters bright the winter long.

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All plants of ev'ry leaf, that can endure

The winter's frown, if screen'd from his shrewd bite,

Live there, and prosper. Those Ausonia claims,
Levantine regions these; th' Azores send

Their jessamine, her jessamine remote
Caffraria foreigners from many lands,
They form one social shade, as if conven'd
By magick summons of th' Orphean lyre.

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Yet just arrangement, rarely brought to pass
But by a master's hand, disposing well
The gay diversities of leaf and flow'r,

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Must lend its aid t' illustrate all their charms,
And dress the regular yet various scene.

Plant behind plant aspiring, in the van

The dwarfish, in the rear retir'd, but still

Sublime above the rest, the statelier stand.

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So once were rang'd the sons of ancient Rome,

A noble show! while Roscius trod the stage;
And so, while Garrick, as renown'd as he,
The sons of Albion; fearing each to lose
Some note of Nature's musick from his lips,
And covetous of Shakspeare's beauty, seen
In ev'ry flash of his far-beaming eye,
Nor taste alone and well-contriv'd display
Suffice to give the marshall'd ranks the grace
Of their complete effect. Much yet remains
Unsung, and many cares are yet behind,
And more laborious; cares on which depend
Their vigour, injur'd soon, not soon restor❜d.
The soil must be renew'd, which often wash'd
Loses its treasure of salubrious salts,

And disappoints the roots; the slender roots
Close interwoven, where they meet the vase,
Must smooth be shorn away; the sapless branch,
Must fly before the knife; the wither'd leaf

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Must be detach'd, and where it strews the floor
Swept with a woman's neatness, breeding else
Contagion and disseminating death.

Discharge but these kind offices, (and who

Would spare, that loves them, offices like these ?)
Well they repay the toil. The sight is pleased,
The scent regal'd, each odorif'rous leaf,
Each op'ning blossom, freely breathes abroad
Its gratitude, and thanks him with its sweets.
So manifold, all pleasing in their kind,
All healthful, are th' employs of rural life.
Reiterated as the wheel of time

Runs round; still ending, and beginning still.
Nor are these all. To deck the shapely knoll
That softly swell'd and gayly dress'd appears
A flow'ry island, from the dark green lawn
Emerging, must be deem'd a labour due

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To no mean hand, and asks the touch of taste.

Here also grateful mixture of well-match'd

And sorted hues, (each giving each relief,

And by contrasted beauty shining more,)

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Is needful. Strength may wield the pond'rous spade,

May turn the clod, and wheel the compost home;

But elegance, chief grace the garden shows,

And most attractive, is the fair result

Of thought, the creature of a polish'd mind.

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Without it all is Gothick as the scene

To which th' insipid citizen resorts

Near yonder heath; where industry mispent,
But proud of his uncouth, ill-chosen task,

Has made a Heav'n on Earth; with suns and moons Of close-ramm'd stones has charg'd th' encumber'd

soil,

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And fairly laid the zodiack in the dust.

He, therefore, who would see his flow'rs dispos'd

Sightly and in just order, ere he gives

The beds the trusted treasure of their seeds,

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Forecasts the future whole; that, when the scene

Shall break into its preconceiv'd display,
Each for itself, and all as with one voice
Conspiring, may attest his bright design,
Nor even then dismissing as perform'd,
His pleasant work, may he suppose it done.
Few self-supported flow'rs endure the wind
Uninjur'd, but expect the upholding aid

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Of the smooth shaven prop, and, neatly tied,
Are wedded thus, like beauty to old age,

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For int'rest sake, the living to the dead.

Some clothe the soil that feeds them, far diffus'd
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,

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Else unadorn'd, 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,

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Noisome, and ever greedy to exhaust

Th' impov'rish'd earth; an overbearing race,
That, like the multitude made faction mad,
Disturb good order, and degrade true worth.
O blest seclusion from a jarring world,
Which he, thus occupied, enjoys! Retreat
Cannot indeed to guilty man restore
Lost innocence, or cancel follies past;

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But it has peace, and much secures the mind
From all assaults of evil; proving still

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A faithful barrier, not o'erleap'd with ease
By vicious Custom, raging uncontroll❜d
Abroad, and desolating publick life,
When fierce Temptation, seconded within
By traitor Appetite, and arm'd with darts
Temper'd 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,

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What could I wish, that I possess not here?
Health, leisure, means improve it, friendship, peace,
No loose or wanton, though a wand'ring 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,
Allur'd by my report: but sure no less

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That self-condemn'd they must neglect the prize, 700
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
Acknowledg'd, 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 ordain'd
Should best secure them, and promote them most;
Scenes that I love, and with regret perceive
Forsaken, or through folly not enjoy'd.
Pure is the nymph, though lib'ral of her smiles,
And chaste, though unconfin'd, whom I extol.
Not as the prince in Shushan, when he call'd,
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 raine alone; my sweets,
And she that sweetens all my bitters too,
Nature, enchanting Nature, in whose form
And lineaments divine I trace a hand

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That errs not, and find raptures still renew'd,

Is free to all men-universal prize.

Strange that so fair a creature should yet want.725

Admirers, and be destin'd to divide

With meaner objects e'en the few she finds!

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