Lives by contriving delicates for you)

Grudge not the coft. 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 profufe regales

With fummer fruits brought forth by wintry funs.
Ten thousand dangers lie in wait to thwart

The process. Heat and cold, and wind, and steam,
Moisture and drought, mice, worms, and fwarming flies,
Minute as duft, and numberlefs, oft work

Dire difappointment, 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 laft, in vain. The learn'd and wife
Sarcastic would exclaim, and judge the fong
Cold as its theme, and, like its theme, the fruit
Of too much labour, worthlefs when produc'd.

Who loves a garden loves a green-house too.
Unconscious of a lefs propitious clime,
There blooms exotic beauty, warm and fnug,
While the winds whiftle and the fnows defcend,
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,

Peep through their polish'd foliage at the storm,
And seem to fmile at what they need not fear.
Th' amomum there with intermingling flow'rs
And cherries hangs her twigs. Geranium boasts
Her crimson honours, and the spangled beau,
Ficoides, glitters bright the winter long.
All plants, of ev'ry leaf, that can endure

The winter's frown, if screen'd from his fhrewd bite,
Live there, and profper. Thofe Aufonia claims,
Levantine regions thefe; th' Azores fend
Their jeffamine, her jeffamine remote
Caffraia foreigners from many lands,
They form one social shade, as if conven'd
By magic fummons of th' Orphean lyre,
Yet juft arrangement, rarely brought to pafs
But by a master's hand, difpofing well

The gay diverfities of leaf and flow'r,

Muft lend it's aid t' illuftrate all their charms,
And drefs the regular yet various fcene.
Plant behind plant afpiring, in the van
The dwarfish, in the rear retir'd, but ftill
Sublime above the reft, the ftatelier ftand.
So once were rang'd the fons of ancient Rome,
A noble fhow! while Rofcius trod the stage;

And fo, while Garrick, as renown'd as he,
The fons of Albion; fearing each to lose
Some note of Nature's music from his lips,
And covetous of Shakespeare's beauty, seen
In ev'ry flash of his far-beaming eye.
Nor tafte alone and well-contriv'd difplay
Suffice to give the marshall'd ranks the grace
Of their complete effect. Much yet remains
Unfung, and many cares are yet behind,
And more laborious; cares on which depend
Their vigour, injur'd soon, not soon restor❜d.
The foil must be renew'd, which, often wash'd,
Lofes its treasure of falubrious falts,

And disappoints the roots; the flender roots
Close interwoven, where they meet the vase,
Must smooth be fhorn away; the saplefs branch
Muft fly before the knife; the wither'd leaf
Must be detach'd, and where it ftrews the floor
Swept with a woman's neatnefs, breeding else
Contagion, and diffeminating death.

Discharge but these kind offices, (and who

Would fpare, that loves them, offices like these?)
Well they reward the toil. The fight is pleas'd,
The scent regal'd, each odorif'rous leaf,
Each op'ning bloffom, freely breathes abroad
Its gratitude, and thanks him with its fweets.

So manifold, all pleafing in their kind, All healthful, are th' employs of rural life, Reiterated as the wheel of time

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

To no mean hand, and asks the touch of taste.
Here alfo grateful mixture of well-match'd
And forted hues (each giving each relief,

And by contrafted beauty shining more)

Is needful. Strength may wield the pond'rous spade, May turn the clod, and wheel the compoft home; But elegance, chief grace the garden fhows,

And most attractive, is the fair refult

Of thought, the creature of a polish'd mind.
Without it all is gothic as the scene

To which th' infipid citizen reforts

Near yonder heath; where industry mispent,

But proud of his uncouth ill-chosen task,

Has made a heav'n on earth; with funs and moons

Of close-ramm'd stones has charg'd th' encumber'd foil,

And fairly laid the zodiac in the dust.

He, therefore, who would fee his flow'rs difpos'd

Sightly and in juft order, ere he gives

The beds the trufted treasure of their feeds,

Forecasts the future whole; that, when the fcene
Shall break into its preconceiv'd difplay,

Each for itself, and all as with one voice
Confpiring, may attest his bright defign.
Nor even then, difmiffing as perform'd
His pleasant work, may he suppose it done.
Few self-supported flow'rs endure the wind
Uninjur'd, but expect th' upholding aid
Of the smooth-fhaven prop, and neatly tied,
Are wedded thus, like beauty to old age,
For int'reft fake, the living to the dead.
Some clothe the foil that feeds them, far diffus'd
And lowly creeping, modeft and yet fair,
Like virtue, thriving moft where little feen :
Some, more aspiring, catch the neighbour shrub
With clafping tendrils, and inveft his branch,
Elfe unadorn'd, with many a gay feltoon
And fragrant chaplet, recompenfing well
The strength they borrow with the grace they lend.
All hate the rank fociety of weeds,

Noifome, 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.