These therefore are his own peculiar charge; No meaner hand may discipline the shoots, None but his steel approach them. What is weak, Distemper'd, or has lost prolific powers,
Impair'd by age, his unrelenting hand
Dooms to the knife: nor does he spare the soft And succulent, that feeds its giant growth, But barren, at the expense of neighbouring twigs Less ostentatious, and yet studded thick With hopeful gems. The rest, no portion left That may disgrace his art, or disappoint Large expectation, he disposes neat
At measured distances, that air and sun, Admitted freely, may afford their aid, And ventilate and warm the swelling buds. Hence Summer has her riches, Autumn hence, And hence e'en Winter fills his wither'd hand With blushing fruits, and plenty not his own.* recompense of labour well bestow'd, And wise precaution; which a clime so rude Makes needful still, whose Spring is but the child Of churlish Winter, in her froward moods Discovering much the temper of her sire. For oft, as if in her the stream of mild Maternal nature had reversed its course, She brings her infants forth with many smiles; But, once delivered, kills them with a frown. He therefore, timely warn'd himself, supplies Her want of care, screening and keeping warm
* Miraturque novos fructus et non sua poma.-Virg.
The plenteous bloom, that no rough blast may sweep His garlands from the boughs. Again, as oft As the sun peeps, and vernal airs breathe mild, The fence withdrawn, he gives them every beam, And spreads his hopes before the blaze of day. To raise the prickly and green-coated gourd, So grateful to the palate, and when rare So coveted, else base and disesteem'd- Food for the vulgar merely-is an art That toiling ages have but just matured, And at this moment unassay'd in song.
Yet gnats have had, and frogs and mice, long since, Their eulogy; those sang the Mantuan bard; And these the Grecian, in ennobling strains; And in thy numbers, Phillips, shines for aye The solitary shilling. Pardon then, Ye sage dispensers of poetic fame,
The ambition of one meaner far, whose powers, Presuming an attempt not less sublime, Pant for the praise of dressing to the taste Of critic appetite no sordid fare, A cucumber, while costly yet and scarce. The stable yields a stercoraceous heap, Impregnated with quick fermenting salts, And potent to resist the freezing blast : For, ere the beech and elm have cast their leaf Deciduous, when now November dark
Checks vegetation in the torpid plant
Exposed to his cold breath, the task begins.
Warily therefore, and with prudent heed,
He seeks a favour'd spot; that where he builds The agglomerated pile his frame may front The sun's meridian disk, and at the back
Enjoy close shelter, wall, Impervious to the wind. Dry fern or litter'd hay,
or reeds, or hedge First he bids spread that may imbibe
The ascending damps; then leisurely impose, And lightly, shaking it with agile hand From the full fork, the saturated straw. What longest binds the closest forms secure The shapely side, that as it rises takes, By just degrees, an overhanging breadth, Sheltering the base with its projected eaves; The uplifted frame, compact at every joint, And overlaid with clear translucent glass, He settles next upon the sloping mount, Whose sharp declivity shoots off secure From the dash'd pane the deluge as it falls. He shuts it close, and the first labour ends. Thrice must the voluble and restless earth Spin round upon her axle, ere the warmth, Slow gathering in the midst, through the square mass Diffused, attain the surface: when, behold! A pestilent and most corrosive steam, Like a gross fog Boeotian, rising fast, And fast condensed upon the dewy sash, Asks egress; which obtain'd, the overcharged And drench'd conservatory breathes abroad, In volumes wheeling slow, the vapour dank; And, purified, rejoices to have lost
Its foul inhabitant. But to assuage
The impatient fervour, which it first conceives Within its reeking bosom, threatening death To his young hopes, requires discreet delay. Experience, slow preceptress, teaching oft The way to glory by miscarriage foul, Must prompt him, and admonish how to catch The auspicious moment, when the temper'd heat, Friendly to vital motion, may afford
Soft fomentation, and invite the seed. The seed, selected wisely, plump, and smooth, And glossy, he commits to pots of size Diminutive, well fill'd with well prepared And fruitful soil, that has been treasured long, And drunk no moisture from the dripping clouds. These on the warm and genial earth, that hides The smoking manure, and o'erspreads it all, He places lightly, and, as time subdues The rage of fermentation, plunges deep In the soft medium, till they stand immersed. Then rise the tender germs, upstarting quick, And spreading wide their spongy lobes; at first Pale, wan, and livid; but assuming soon, If fann'd by balmy and nutritious air,
Strain'd through the friendly mats, a vivid green. Two leaves produced, two rough indented leaves, Cautious he pinches from the second stalk
A pimple, that portends a future sprout,
And interdicts its growth. Thence straight succeed The branches, sturdy to his utmost wish;
Prolific all, and harbingers of more.
The crowded roots demand enlargement now, And transplantation in an ampler space. Indulged in what they wish, they soon supply Large foliage, overshadowing golden flowers, Blown on the summit of the apparent fruit. These have their sexes; and when summer shines, The bee transports the fertilizing meal
From flower to flower, and e'en the breathing air 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.
Grudge not, ye rich, (since Luxury must have His dainties, and the World's more numerous half 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 exercised, 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
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 the expedients and the shifts
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