Of gardens four books first written in Latine verse by Renatus Rapinus ; and now made English by J.E.
         Hortorum libri IV. English
         Rapin, René, 1621-1687.
      
       
         
           1672
        
      
       Approx. 220 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 142 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images.
       
         Text Creation Partnership,
         Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) :
         2003-01 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).
         A58064
         Wing R268
         ESTC R6425
         11893756
         ocm 11893756
         50514
         
           
            This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of
             Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal
            . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.
          
        
      
       
         Early English books online.
      
       
         (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A58064)
         Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 50514)
         Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 507:19)
      
       
         
           
             Of gardens four books first written in Latine verse by Renatus Rapinus ; and now made English by J.E.
             Hortorum libri IV. English
             Rapin, René, 1621-1687.
             Evelyn, John, 1655-1699.
          
           [24], 237, [18] p.
           
             Printed by T.R. & N.T. for Thomas Collins and John Ford...,
             London :
             1672.
          
           
             First edition in English?
             Translation of Hortorum libri IV.
             "The table" [i.e. index]: p. [2]-[17].
             "The epistle dedicatory" signed: J. Evelyn [the younger]
             Reproduction of original in Cambridge University Library.
          
        
      
    
     
       
         Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2tei.xsl, TEI @ Oxford.
         Re-processed by University of Nebraska-Lincoln and Northwestern, with changes to facilitate morpho-syntactic tagging. Gap elements of known extent have been transformed into placeholder characters or elements to simplify the filling in of gaps by user contributors.
      
       
         EEBO-TCP is a partnership between the Universities of Michigan and Oxford and the publisher ProQuest to create accurately transcribed and encoded texts based on the image sets published by ProQuest via their Early English Books Online (EEBO) database (http://eebo.chadwyck.com). The general aim of EEBO-TCP is to encode one copy (usually the first edition) of every monographic English-language title published between 1473 and 1700 available in EEBO.
         EEBO-TCP aimed to produce large quantities of textual data within the usual project restraints of time and funding, and therefore chose to create diplomatic transcriptions (as opposed to critical editions) with light-touch, mainly structural encoding based on the Text Encoding Initiative (http://www.tei-c.org).
         The EEBO-TCP project was divided into two phases. The 25,363 texts created during Phase 1 of the project have been released into the public domain as of 1 January 2015. Anyone can now take and use these texts for their own purposes, but we respectfully request that due credit and attribution is given to their original source.
         Users should be aware of the process of creating the TCP texts, and therefore of any assumptions that can be made about the data.
         Text selection was based on the New Cambridge Bibliography of English Literature (NCBEL). If an author (or for an anonymous work, the title) appears in NCBEL, then their works are eligible for inclusion. Selection was intended to range over a wide variety of subject areas, to reflect the true nature of the print record of the period. In general, first editions of a works in English were prioritized, although there are a number of works in other languages, notably Latin and Welsh, included and sometimes a second or later edition of a work was chosen if there was a compelling reason to do so.
         Image sets were sent to external keying companies for transcription and basic encoding. Quality assurance was then carried out by editorial teams in Oxford and Michigan. 5% (or 5 pages, whichever is the greater) of each text was proofread for accuracy and those which did not meet QA standards were returned to the keyers to be redone. After proofreading, the encoding was enhanced and/or corrected and characters marked as illegible were corrected where possible up to a limit of 100 instances per text. Any remaining illegibles were encoded as <gap>s. Understanding these processes should make clear that, while the overall quality of TCP data is very good, some errors will remain and some readable characters will be marked as illegible. Users should bear in mind that in all likelihood such instances will never have been looked at by a TCP editor.
         The texts were encoded and linked to page images in accordance with level 4 of the TEI in Libraries guidelines.
         Copies of the texts have been issued variously as SGML (TCP schema; ASCII text with mnemonic sdata character entities); displayable XML (TCP schema; characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or text strings within braces); or lossless XML (TEI P5, characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or TEI g elements).
         
          Keying and markup guidelines are available at the
           Text Creation Partnership web site
          .
        
      
       
         
         
      
    
     
       
         eng
      
       
         
           Gardening -- Poetry.
        
      
    
     
        2000-00 TCP
        Assigned for keying and markup
      
        2001-12 Apex CoVantage
        Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images
      
        2002-01 TCP Staff (Michigan)
        Sampled and proofread
      
        2002-01 TCP Staff (Michigan)
        Text and markup reviewed and edited
      
        2002-02 pfs
        Batch review (QC) and XML conversion
      
    
  
   
     
       
         
         
         
           OF
           GARDENS
           .
        
         
           Four
           Books
        
         
           First
           written
           in
           Latine
           Verse
           BY
           
             RENATUS
             RAPINUS
          
           .
        
         
           And
           now
           made
           English
           By
           
             I.
             E.
          
           
        
         
           LONDON
           ,
           
             Printed
             by
          
           T.
           R.
           &
           N.
           T.
           for
           Thomas
           Collinsand
           
             Iohn
             Ford
          
           at
           the
           
             Middle-Temple
             Gate
          
           ,
           and
           
             Benjamin
             Tooks
          
           at
           the
           
           Shipin
           St.
           
             Paul's
             Church-yard
          
           ,
           1672.
           
        
      
       
         
         
         
           To
           the
           Right
           Honourable
           HENRY
           Earl
           of
           ARLINGTON
           ,
           Viscount
           THETFORD
           ,
           &c.
           
        
         
           
             His
             Majesties
             Principal
             Secreiary
             of
             State
             ,
             of
             his
             most
             honourable
             
               Privy
               Council
            
             ;
             and
             Knight
             of
             the
             most
             noble
             Order
             of
             the
             
               Garter
               ,
               &c.
            
             
          
        
         
           
             MY
             LORD
             ,
          
        
         
           T
           is
           become
           the
           mode
           of
           this
           writing
           age
           ,
           to
           trouble
           Persons
           
           of
           the
           highest
           Rank
           ,
           not
           only
           with
           the
           Real
           Productions
           of
           Wit
           ;
           but
           (
           if
           so
           I
           may
           be
           allowed
           to
           speak
           )
           with
           the
           trifles
           and
           follys
           of
           it
           ;
           hardly
           dos
           an
           ill
           Play
           come
           forth
           without
           a
           Dedication
           to
           some
           great
           Lady
           ,
           or
           man
           of
           Honour
           ;
           and
           all
           think
           themselves
           sufficiently
           secure
           ,
           if
           they
           can
           obtain
           but
           the
           least
           pretence
           of
           Authority
           to
           cover
           their
           imperfections
           :
           
             My
             Lord
          
           ,
           I
           am
           sensible
           of
           mine
           :
           but
           they
           concern
           only
           my self
           ,
           and
           can
           never
           lessen
           the
           dignity
           of
           a
           Subject
           ,
           which
           the
           best
           of
           Poets
           ,
           and
           perhaps
           
           the
           greatest
           Wits
           too
           ,
           have
           celebrated
           with
           just
           applause
           .
        
         
           I
           know
           not
           how
           ,
           my
           Lord
           ,
           I
           may
           have
           succeeded
           with
           this
           adventure
           ,
           in
           an
           age
           so
           nice
           and
           refin'd
           ,
           but
           the
           Die
           is
           cast
           ,
           and
           I
           had
           rather
           expose
           my selfe
           to
           the
           fortune
           of
           it
           ,
           then
           loose
           an
           occasion
           of
           acknowledging
           your
           Lordships
           favours
           ,
           which
           as
           they
           have
           oblig'd
           the
           Father
           ,
           so
           ought
           they
           to
           command
           the
           gratitude
           of
           the
           Son
           :
           nor
           must
           I
           forget
           to
           acquaint
           your
           Lordship
           ,
           that
           the
           Author
           of
           this
           Poem
           address'd
           it
           to
           one
           of
           the
           most
           
           Eminent
           Persons
           in
           France
           ;
           and
           it
           were
           unhappy
           if
           it
           should
           not
           meet
           with
           the
           same
           good
           Fortune
           in
           England
           ;
           I
           am
           sure
           the
           origiginal
           deserves
           it
           ,
           which
           though
           it
           may
           have
           lost
           much
           of
           its
           Lustre
           by
           my
           Translation
           ,
           will
           yet
           recover
           its
           credit
           with
           advantage
           ,
           by
           having
           found
           in
           your
           Lordship
           so
           Illustrious
           a
           Patron
           .
           Great
           Men
           have
           in
           all
           Ages
           bin
           favourable
           to
           the
           Muses
           ,
           and
           done
           them
           honour
           ;
           and
           your
           Lordship
           ,
           who
           is
           the
           true
           Model
           of
           Virtue
           and
           Greatness
           ,
           cannot
           but
           have
           the
           same
           inclinations
           .
           
           for
           the
           delights
           which
           adorn
           ,
           those
           Titles
           ;
           especially
           ,
           when
           they
           are
           innocent
           ,
           and
           useful
           ,
           and
           excellent
           ,
           as
           this
           Poem
           is
           pronounced
           to
           be
           by
           the
           Suffrages
           of
           the
           most
           discerning
           ;
           I
           had
           else
           my
           Lord
           ,
           suppress'd
           my
           ambition
           of
           being
           in
           Pring
           ,
           and
           setting
           up
           for
           a
           Poet
           ,
           which
           is
           neither
           my
           talent
           nor
           design
           :
           But
           my
           Lord
           ,
           to
           importune
           you
           no
           further
           ,
           this
           peice
           presumes
           not
           to
           intrude
           into
           your
           Cabinet
           ,
           but
           to
           wait
           upon
           you
           in
           your
           Gardens
           at
           Euston
           ,
           where
           ,
           if
           when
           your
           
           Lordships
           more
           weighty
           affairs
           give
           leave
           ,
           you
           vouchsafe
           to
           divert
           your self
           with
           the
           first
           Blossoms
           of
           my
           Youth
           ,
           they
           may
           by
           the
           instuence
           of
           your
           Lordships
           favour
           ,
           one
           day
           produce
           fruits
           of
           more
           maturity
           ,
           and
           worthy
           the
           oblation
           of
        
         
           
             My
             Lord
             ,
          
           
             Your
             Lordships
             Most
             dutiful
             ,
             and
             most
             obedient
             Servant
             I.
             EVELYN
             .
          
        
      
       
         
         
           The
           Preface
           .
        
         
           IT
           ,
           will
           doubtless
           appear
           an
           intollerable
           presumption
           in
           the
           to
           prosecute
           that
           part
           of
           the
           perfectest
           Work
           of
           all
           Antiquity
           ,
           which
           was
           omitted
           by
           the
           most
           accomplished
           Poet
           that
           ever
           wrote
           .
           Few
           are
           ignorant
           of
           what
           he
           says
           in
           the
           fourth
           of
           his
           Georgicks
           .
        
         
           
             For
             sitan
             &
             Pingues
             hortos
             quae
             cura
             colendi
             ,
          
           
             Ornaret
             ,
             canerem
             ,
             biferique
             rosaria
             Poesti
             :
          
           
             Quoque
             modo
             potis
             gauderent
             intyba
             rivis
             ,
          
           
             Et
             virides
             apio
             ripae
             .
          
        
         
         
           You
           would
           think
           in
           this
           place
           that
           Virgil
           was
           pleased
           with
           his
           own
           fancy
           ,
           he
           is
           so
           fluent
           ;
           nor
           without
           cause
           ,
           where
           he
           is
           invited
           by
           the
           charm
           of
           so
           liberal
           a
           Subject
           .
           But
           whether
           he
           was
           hastened
           by
           his
           design'd
           Poem
           of
           Bees
           ;
           ot
           that
           he
           reserved
           his
           time
           for
           the
           setting
           forth
           of
           his
           Hero
           ,
           not
           m●ch
           after
           he
           leaves
           off
           what
           he
           had
           beg●n
           ;
           yet
           not
           without
           a
           commendation
           of
           the
           Argument
           ,
           as
           worthy
           to
           be
           handled
           by
           all
           posterity
           .
        
         
           
             Verum
             haec
             ipse
             equidem
             spatiis
             disclusus
             iniquis
          
           
             Praetereo
             ,
             atque
             aliis
             post
             commemoranda
             relinquo
             .
          
        
         
           Now
           to
           go
           on
           where
           so
           great
           a
           man
           left
           off
           ,
           to
           treat
           of
           a
           matter
           ,
           which
           if
           we
           may
           believe
           Pliny
           ,
           was
           able
           to
           deter
           so
           expert
           a
           Writer
           ,
           makes
           me
           fear
           I
           can
           scarce
           free
           my self
           from
           the
           guilt
           of
           an
           extream
           confidence
           ,
           besides
           in
           the
           imitation
           of
           so
           divine
           a
           Pattern
           ,
           I
           
           raise
           a
           greater
           expectation
           then
           I
           can
           satisfie
           :
           And
           the
           example
           which
           I
           propose
           to
           my self
           is
           not
           so
           much
           an
           advantage
           to
           me
           .
           as
           it
           leads
           me
           to
           an
           infallible
           despair
           .
           What
           a
           rashness
           is
           it
           to
           attempt
           that
           which
           partly
           for
           the
           difficulty
           of
           what
           Virgil
           has
           omitted
           ,
           partly
           for
           the
           excellency
           of
           what
           he
           has
           perform'd
           ,
           none
           ever
           yet
           dared
           to
           undertake
           ?
           The
           Culture
           of
           Gardens
           also
           being
           arrived
           to
           that
           height
           ,
           that
           nothing
           can
           render
           it
           more
           perfect
           ;
           and
           their
           dignity
           is
           such
           ,
           that
           when
           I
           have
           done
           all
           I
           can
           ,
           I
           shall
           have
           done
           less
           then
           they
           deserve
           .
        
         
           Nor
           was
           I
           a
           little
           discouraged
           by
           the
           defects
           of
           the
           Latine
           Tongue
           ,
           since
           it
           is
           an
           insufferable
           arrogance
           to
           write
           of
           a
           thing
           in
           Latine
           ,
           of
           which
           the
           Latines
           were
           wholly
           ignorant
           :
           For
           the
           method
           of
           Gardening
           which
           is
           now
           in
           vogue
           ,
           either
           of
           disposing
           Flowers
           in
           Beds
           ,
           or
           the
           planting
           ,
           and
           
           ordering
           of
           Wall
           Fruits
           ,
           was
           not
           used
           among
           them
           .
           But
           yet
           if
           I
           transgress
           either
           through
           the
           penury
           of
           the
           Language
           ,
           or
           my
           own
           ignorance
           .
           I
           am
           so
           vain
           as
           to
           hope
           ,
           that
           our
           Age
           which
           admires
           Gardens
           above
           all
           others
           ,
           will
           forgive
           me
           ,
           if
           I
           fall
           short
           in
           an
           Essay
           which
           none
           have
           made
           trial
           of
           before
           me
           .
           On
           the
           other
           side
           ,
           I
           was
           encouraged
           by
           the
           kind
           reception
           which
           Gardening
           finds
           every
           where
           ,
           even
           with
           those
           of
           the
           highest
           and
           noblest
           rank
           ;
           insomuch
           ,
           that
           I
           question
           whether
           it
           was
           ever
           in
           greater
           esteem
           .
           And
           it
           was
           requisite
           since
           we
           are
           grown
           more
           curious
           in
           this
           affair
           then
           formerly
           ,
           that
           somewhat
           of
           the
           delightful
           part
           of
           it
           should
           be
           communicated
           ,
           which
           as
           well
           by
           the
           discipline
           of
           the
           times
           ,
           as
           the
           industry
           of
           the
           improvers
           ,
           is
           come
           to
           its
           utmost
           perfection
           .
           For
           certainly
           that
           symmetry
           of
           parts
           ,
           which
           
           is
           now
           visible
           in
           every
           Garden
           ,
           is
           that
           exact
           beauty
           to
           which
           nothing
           can
           be
           added
           .
        
         
           I
           need
           not
           say
           much
           here
           of
           the
           nature
           of
           that
           Verse
           ,
           in
           which
           Precepts
           were
           wont
           to
           be
           delivered
           ;
           the
           Georgicks
           of
           Virgil
           are
           the
           best
           patterns
           of
           it
           ;
           whose
           natural
           Ingenuity
           is
           such
           ,
           as
           will
           hardly
           admit
           of
           that
           more
           elegant
           dress
           which
           I
           have
           put
           on
           ;
           considering
           also
           the
           humility
           of
           that
           style
           ,
           in
           which
           a
           naked
           and
           unmixed
           simplicity
           is
           most
           sought
           after
           .
           I
           will
           not
           go
           about
           to
           excuse
           my self
           ,
           since
           I
           have
           happened
           on
           a
           Subject
           in
           which
           Virgil
           could
           not
           easily
           contain
           himselfe
           ;
           though
           it
           was
           no
           difficult
           matter
           for
           him
           to
           do
           it
           ,
           especially
           in
           that
           duller
           part
           of
           Husbandry
           ;
           in
           which
           nevertheless
           ,
           as
           Pliny
           observes
           ,
           he
           onely
           cull'd
           the
           flowers
           of
           things
           ,
           leaving
           out
           nothing
           that
           was
           capable
           of
           any
           splendour
           
           or
           ornament
           :
           hence
           proceeded
           those
           frequent
           digressions
           from
           his
           purpose
           ,
           that
           he
           might
           avoid
           the
           inconvenience
           of
           being
           tedious
           ,
           which
           Ma●robius
           speaks
           of
           in
           the
           5th
           .
           book
           of
           his
           Saturnalia
           .
           In
           the
           Georgicks
           (
           says
           he
           )
           after
           the
           precepts
           which
           are
           naturally
           harsh
           ,
           he
           concludes
           each
           book
           with
           the
           interposition
           of
           some
           quicker
           argument
           :
           As
           the
           first
           with
           the
           signs
           of
           the
           Weather
           ;
           the
           second
           with
           the
           praises
           of
           a
           countrey
           Life
           ;
           the
           third
           with
           a
           mortality
           among
           Cattel
           ;
           and
           the
           fourth
           with
           a
           pertinent
           story
           of
           Orpheus
           and
           Aristaeus
           .
           Nor
           have
           I
           bin
           wanting
           in
           that
           particular
           :
           having
           made
           it
           my
           business
           to
           teach
           with
           as
           little
           rudeness
           as
           I
           can
           :
           and
           to
           advance
           the
           dulnesse
           of
           the
           instruction
           by
           the
           freedom
           of
           my
           fancy
           ,
           that
           I
           might
           allay
           the
           harshness
           of
           those
           places
           ,
           which
           the
           humility
           of
           the
           subject
           has
           so
           debased
           ,
           that
           
           otherwise
           they
           would
           be
           displeasing
           to
           the
           Reader
           .
        
         
           Yet
           if
           I
           appear
           too
           curious
           :
           I
           can
           defend
           my self
           by
           the
           authority
           of
           all
           those
           Greeks
           ,
           who
           have
           written
           of
           Flowers
           ,
           or
           their
           Culture
           .
           What
           can
           be
           more
           elegant
           then
           the
           description
           which
           Nicander
           makes
           in
           the
           seond
           of
           his
           Georgicks
           of
           those
           Gardens
           in
           the
           territories
           of
           Pisa
           ,
           which
           were
           water'd
           by
           the
           river
           Alpheus
           ?
           In
           which
           he
           so
           often
           makes
           use
           of
           those
           ornaments
           ,
           which
           Poetry
           derives
           from
           its
           fabulous
           times
           .
           It
           is
           almost
           incredible
           how
           copious
           and
           eloquent
           the
           rest
           are
           in
           that
           argument
           ,
           of
           whom
           Athenaeus
           makes
           mention
           in
           his
           15th
           .
           book
           .
           Those
           who
           in
           verse
           treated
           of
           flow'ry
           Garlands
           ,
           as
           
             Cratinus
             ,
             Hegesias
             ,
             Anacreon
             ,
             Sappho
             ,
             Pancrates
             ,
             Chaeremon
             ,
             Eubulus
             ,
          
           and
           innumerable
           others
           .
           But
           I
           should
           not
           have
           so
           freely
           made
           use
           of
           Fables
           ,
           in
           a
           matter
           that
           
           is
           expected
           to
           be
           grave
           and
           instructive
           :
           I
           should
           have
           inquired
           into
           the
           nature
           of
           Flowers
           and
           Plants
           ,
           have
           described
           their
           properties
           ,
           and
           estimated
           their
           virtues
           .
           I
           confess
           I
           should
           ;
           and
           I
           think
           I
           have
           done
           so
           :
           Yet
           not
           forgetting
           that
           I
           act
           the
           part
           of
           a
           Poet
           ,
           and
           not
           of
           a
           Philosopher
           ,
           to
           gain
           credit
           by
           the
           raw
           simplicity
           of
           a
           scrupulous
           discourse
           .
           But
           though
           this
           be
           a
           middle
           ,
           and
           more
           contracted
           way
           of
           writing
           ,
           yet
           it
           sometimes
           takes
           courage
           ,
           and
           exalts
           it self
           ,
           that
           the
           slenderness
           of
           the
           matter
           may
           not
           make
           it
           appear
           too
           mean
           and
           dejected
           .
           To
           prevent
           which
           ,
           the
           Soul
           must
           be
           excited
           ,
           that
           so
           the
           mind
           (
           as
           Anacreon
           has
           it
           )
           being
           raised
           to
           a
           poetique
           height
           ,
           may
           breath
           forth
           divine
           raptures
           .
        
         
           
             
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
            
          
        
         
         
           But
           the
           mention
           of
           the
           Heathen
           Deitys
           ,
           by
           a
           Christian
           Authour
           ,
           perhaps
           will
           seem
           absurd
           to
           those
           ,
           who
           are
           ignorant
           of
           the
           Genius
           of
           Poetry
           ,
           which
           by
           the
           services
           of
           the
           gods
           ,
           and
           a
           feigned
           terrour
           of
           their
           decrees
           ,
           ought
           sometimes
           to
           elevate
           the
           mind
           ,
           that
           it
           may
           create
           admiration
           ;
           and
           for
           this
           the
           liberty
           that
           is
           usually
           allowed
           the
           Muses
           is
           warrant
           enough
           ,
           if
           we
           had
           not
           that
           of
           Religion
           too
           ,
           which
           neither
           thinks
           it self
           ,
           or
           morality
           injured
           ,
           by
           that
           licence
           which
           a
           Poet
           takes
           to
           set
           off
           the
           truth
           ,
           by
           the
           beauty
           and
           gracefulness
           of
           fiction
           .
        
         
           I
           have
           not
           been
           so
           nice
           in
           Wood
           ,
           and
           Water
           ,
           as
           in
           Flowers
           ,
           whose
           charms
           forced
           me
           to
           be
           a
           little
           more
           exuberant
           :
           unless
           it
           be
           in
           some
           places
           ,
           where
           it
           was
           convenient
           to
           make
           the
           excellency
           of
           Poetry
           shine
           forth
           in
           the
           delightfuliness
           of
           Fables
           ;
           
           that
           so
           the
           work
           might
           not
           wholly
           labour
           under
           the
           barrenness
           of
           the
           precepts
           ,
           which
           it
           treats
           of
           .
        
         
           In
           the
           Orchard
           ,
           I
           fear
           I
           have
           not
           satisfy'd
           their
           expectations
           ,
           who
           looked
           for
           a
           long
           Catalogue
           of
           Fruits
           and
           Apples
           ,
           which
           are
           so
           numerous
           that
           it
           were
           endless
           to
           go
           about
           it
           ;
           in
           describing
           the
           different
           kinds
           of
           Fruit
           ,
           I
           have
           only
           touched
           the
           heads
           of
           things
           ,
           after
           the
           example
           of
           Virgil
           ,
           who
           in
           the
           second
           of
           his
           Georgicks
           ,
           speaks
           but
           of
           a
           few
           of
           those
           wines
           which
           Italy
           afforded
           with
           so
           much
           variety
           and
           abundance
           ;
           nor
           dos
           he
           take
           notice
           of
           any
           more
           then
           three
           sorts
           of
           Olives
           ,
           and
           as
           many
           of
           Pears
           :
           for
           nothing
           is
           more
           abhorrent
           from
           the
           nature
           of
           that
           verse
           ,
           then
           the
           hateful
           enumeration
           of
           particulars
           ,
           which
           cannot
           but
           be
           very
           tedious
           ,
           when
           it
           descends
           so
           low
           as
           to
           divide
           every
           thing
           into
           atomes
           ,
           like
           that
           impertinent
           
           workman
           whom
           Horace
           speaks
           of
           in
           his
           Poems
           .
        
         
           
             AEmilium
             circa
             ludum
             faber
             imus
             ,
             &
             ungues
          
           
             Exprimet
             ,
             &
             molles
             imitabitur
             aere
             capillos
             ,
          
           
             Infoelix
             operis
             summa
             .
          
        
         
           A
           correct
           writer
           can
           never
           fall
           into
           this
           errour
           ,
           he
           will
           rather
           make
           choice
           with
           judgment
           ,
           then
           be
           voluminous
           .
           But
           since
           I
           cannot
           avoid
           being
           faulty
           in
           many
           things
           :
           I
           were
           unwise
           if
           I
           should
           endeavour
           to
           excuse
           all
           .
           Therefore
           not
           to
           tire
           the
           Reader
           (
           whose
           favour
           I
           implore
           )
           with
           a
           long
           Preface
           ,
           I
           will
           make
           no
           more
           apologies
           for
           my self
           ,
           but
           only
           add
           a
           word
           or
           two
           of
           the
           end
           ,
           that
           is
           proposed
           in
           an
           instructive
           Poem
           :
           which
           as
           it
           is
           the
           same
           with
           that
           of
           all
           Poetry
           ,
           is
           very
           easie
           .
           Not
           but
           that
           it
           is
           more
           
           generous
           ,
           then
           to
           insist
           wholly
           upon
           vanities
           and
           trifles
           :
           although
           its
           chief
           talent
           lies
           in
           being
           delightful
           :
           that
           which
           makes
           Philosophy
           it self
           appear
           wiser
           then
           other
           things
           ,
           is
           the
           harshness
           ,
           by
           which
           it
           renders
           the
           truth
           more
           difficult
           to
           be
           attain'd
           .
           The
           end
           of
           that
           Poetry
           is
           as
           of
           all
           the
           rest
           to
           teach
           :
           which
           as
           Horace
           intimates
           to
           Lollius
           .
        
         
           
             Quid
             sit
             pulchrum
             ,
             quid
             turpe
             ,
             quid
             utile
             ,
             quid
             non
             :
          
           
             Plenius
             ac
             melius
             Chrysippo
             ,
             &
             Crantore
             dicit
             .
          
        
         
           Though
           Seneca
           in
           other
           things
           is
           no
           inconsiderate
           writer
           ,
           yet
           here
           he
           is
           so
           confident
           a
           Critique
           ,
           that
           I
           have
           no
           patience
           with
           him
           ,
           when
           he
           censures
           Virgil
           in
           his
           Georgicks
           ,
           for
           making
           it
           his
           business
           not
           so
           much
           to
           speak
           truth
           ,
           as
           what
           was
           graceful
           and
           ornamental
           ;
           
           and
           to
           have
           rather
           aimed
           at
           the
           delight
           of
           the
           Reader
           ,
           then
           the
           improvement
           of
           the
           Husband-man
           :
           Thus
           he
           destroys
           the
           main
           design
           of
           the
           Gentiler
           sort
           of
           Poetry
           ,
           which
           was
           never
           more
           happily
           carryed
           on
           then
           by
           Virgil.
           Therefore
           as
           to
           this
           point
           ,
           I
           value
           the
           opinion
           of
           Seneca
           but
           little
           ;
           from
           whom
           I
           may
           appeal
           to
           the
           judgment
           of
           antiquity
           ,
           which
           is
           ever
           to
           be
           reverenced
           by
           all
           wise
           men
           .
           It
           is
           manifest
           enough
           ,
           how
           improbable
           it
           is
           ,
           that
           a
           man
           so
           well
           seen
           in
           the
           works
           of
           nature
           ,
           and
           one
           who
           acts
           with
           so
           much
           strictness
           in
           other
           things
           ,
           should
           play
           the
           fool
           where
           he
           intends
           to
           instruct
           .
           For
           what
           is
           more
           below
           a
           generous
           man
           ,
           then
           to
           trifle
           where
           he
           should
           teach
           ;
           or
           to
           dwell
           upon
           nicetys
           ,
           where
           he
           promises
           that
           which
           is
           serious
           :
           and
           no
           one
           who
           is
           not
           very
           stupid
           can
           impute
           this
           to
           Virgil
           ?
        
         
           In
           Varro
           I
           find
           innumerable
           of
           the
           
           ancients
           to
           have
           written
           of
           agriculture
           .
           But
           of
           all
           those
           none
           but
           Menecrates
           the
           Ephesian
           ,
           and
           Hesiod
           wrote
           in
           verse
           ,
           and
           Hesiod
           was
           the
           first
           ,
           who
           as
           Pliny
           testifies
           :
           Thousands
           of
           years
           ago
           ,
           in
           the
           infancy
           of
           learning
           ,
           gave
           the
           first
           rules
           of
           Husbandry
           ;
           though
           indeed
           Hesiod
           treated
           of
           the
           manners
           of
           men
           ,
           more
           then
           the
           nature
           of
           things
           ;
           which
           was
           what
           he
           proposed
           to
           himselfe
           :
           so
           that
           he
           acts
           the
           part
           of
           a
           Moralist
           ,
           rather
           then
           of
           a
           true
           Poet
           :
           Yet
           he
           deserves
           infinite
           praise
           ;
           but
           not
           so
           much
           as
           Virgil
           ,
           whose
           performances
           in
           that
           kind
           ,
           are
           above
           admiration
           .
           This
           is
           the
           reason
           that
           makes
           me
           look
           upon
           him
           ,
           as
           one
           who
           contrary
           to
           the
           mode
           of
           the
           rest
           of
           the
           Poets-promises
           nothing
           of
           himself
           ,
           but
           without
           modesty
           and
           plainness
           ,
           which
           in
           my
           opinion
           ,
           is
           the
           most
           approved
           method
           of
           a
           good
           understanding
           ;
           whose
           clearness
           is
           the
           perfect
           accomplishment
           
           of
           that
           wisdom
           ,
           which
           
             Horace
             ad
             Pisones
          
           requires
           as
           the
           standard
           of
           sound
           and
           correct
           writing
           .
        
         
           Scribendi
           recte
           ,
           sapere
           est
           &
           principium
           ,
           &
           Fons
           .
        
      
    
     
       
         
         
         
           RAPINUS
           OF
           GARDENS
           .
        
         
           Book
           1.
           
           Flowers
           .
        
         
           
             OF
             Flowers
             ,
             a
             Gardens
             chiefest
             grace
             I
             sing
             ,
          
           
             How
             you
             may
             Groves
             to
             best
             perfection
             bring
             ;
          
           
             Of
             Aquaeducts
             ,
             of
             Fruit
             ,
             the
             cure
             and
             use
             :
          
           
             This
             to
             the
             world
             is
             publish'd
             by
             my
             Muse.
          
           
             Ye
             Gods
             that
             make
             the
             earth
             to
             fructifie
             ,
          
           
             Let
             no
             rude
             tempest
             now
             disturb
             the
             Skie
             .
          
           
           
             Through
             paths
             by
             the
             Poetick
             Train
             untrod
             ,
          
           
             Apollo
             calls
             ,
             though
             first
             to
             Maro
             show'd
             ;
          
           
             When
             in
             the
             end
             of
             his
             discourse
             he
             writes
             ,
          
           
             What
             most
             th'
             Italian
             fertile
             Soyl
             delights
             ;
          
           
             To
             till
             the
             field
             his
             thrifty
             Swain
             he
             taught
             ;
          
           
             Gardens
             to
             plant
             ,
             left
             for
             some
             later
             thought
             .
          
        
         
           
             This
             Poets
             footsteps
             I
             can
             onely
             trace
             ;
          
           
             Nor
             dare
             I
             think
             to
             equalize
             his
             pace
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             heav'nly
             flight
             by
             nothing
             I
             pursue
             ,
          
           
             But
             my
             weak
             eyes
             ,
             and
             keep
             him
             in
             my
             view
             .
          
        
         
           
             Thou
             that
             art
             mine
             ,
             and
             learnings
             greatest
             light
             ,
          
           
             Under
             whose
             influence
             justice
             shines
             more
             bright
          
           
             Lamon
             ,
             if
             with
             thy
             Laws
             severe
             defence
             ,
          
           
             And
             State-affairs
             a
             while
             thou
             canst
             dispence
             ;
          
           
             Afford
             my
             Gardens
             room
             within
             thy
             mind
             ,
          
           
             Though
             to
             the
             Laws
             and
             Government
             resign'd
             :
          
           
           
             While
             with
             impartial
             sentence
             you
             decide
          
           
             Causes
             ,
             by
             int'rest
             ,
             nor
             affection
             ty'd
             ;
          
           
             While
             your
             example
             is
             to
             all
             a
             law
             ,
          
           
             And
             your
             own
             virtue
             vice
             it self
             do's
             awe
             ;
          
           
             Yet
             to
             alleviate
             this
             sublimer
             care
             ,
          
           
             Grant
             to
             the
             Muses
             in
             your
             thoughts
             a
             share
             .
          
           
             Though
             I
             perhaps
             to
             lower
             ends
             aspire
             ,
          
           
             Some
             kinder
             God
             may
             set
             my
             soul
             on
             fire
             ;
          
           
             Then
             shall
             I
             sing
             ,
             and
             publish
             loud
             your
             fame
             ,
          
           
             And
             in
             due
             numbers
             celebrate
             your
             name
             :
          
           
             The
             Woods
             shall
             you
             ,
             the
             Fountains
             you
             resound
             ,
          
           
             Your
             praise
             shal
             eccho
             from
             the
             fruitful
             ground
             .
          
           
             My
             Flowers
             to
             your
             Temples
             shall
             be
             joyn'd
             ,
          
           
             Which
             for
             immortal
             Garlands
             are
             design'd
             .
          
        
         
           
             Soyl
             fit
             for
             Gardens
             first
             of
             all
             prepare
             ,
          
           
             To
             th'
             East
             expos'd
             ,
             refresh'd
             with
             wholesom
             air
             ,
          
           
           
             Where
             no
             near
             hill
             his
             lofty
             head
             presumes
          
           
             T'
             advance
             ,
             or
             noisome
             Fens
             exhale
             in
             fumes
             .
          
           
             Where
             no
             dull
             vapours
             from
             the
             Pools
             infect
             ;
          
           
             Flow'rs
             most
             of
             all
             the
             open
             air
             affect
             .
          
           
             But
             before
             this
             you
             ought
             to
             know
             the
             state
             ,
          
           
             And
             nature
             of
             the
             earth
             you
             cultivate
             ,
          
           
             'T
             is
             best
             ,
             where
             fat
             and
             clammy
             ground
             you
             see
             ;
          
           
             Flow'rs
             with
             rich
             soyl
             most
             properly
             agree
             .
          
           
             This
             rank
             with
             weeds
             of
             a
             luxuriant
             blade
             ,
          
           
             Culture
             admits
             ,
             and
             is
             for
             flowers
             made
             .
          
           
             Learn
             that
             t'
             avoid
             ,
             where
             deep
             in
             barren
             clay
          
           
             The
             specked
             Euts
             their
             yellow
             bellies
             lay
             .
          
           
             Where
             burning
             sand
             the
             upper-hand
             obtains
             ,
          
           
             Or
             where
             with
             chalk
             unfruitful
             gravel
             reigns
             .
          
           
             And
             lest
             th'
             external
             redness
             of
             the
             Soyl
          
           
             Deceive
             your
             labours
             ,
             and
             despise
             your
             toyl
             ;
          
           
             Deeply
             beneath
             the
             furrows
             thrust
             your
             spade
             :
          
           
             Outward
             appearance
             many
             hath
             betray'd
             .
          
           
           
             Earth
             under
             the
             green
             Sward
             may
             be
             inclos'd
          
           
             To
             a
             rough
             sand
             ,
             or
             burning
             clay
             dispos'd
             .
          
           
             Some
             I
             've
             observ'd
             ,
             who
             ,
             if
             the
             ground
             they
             find
          
           
             To
             bring
             forth
             stones
             or
             Pebbles
             be
             inclin'd
             ,
          
           
             Sift
             it
             ,
             lest
             they
             the
             tender
             blade
             molest
             ,
          
           
             And
             by
             their
             weight
             the
             flowers
             be
             opprest
             .
          
        
         
           
             Now
             if
             both
             earth
             and
             air
             answer
             your
             ends
             ,
          
           
             (
             For
             earth
             upon
             air's
             influence
             depends
             )
          
           
             Inlarge
             your
             prospect
             ,
             nor
             confine
             your
             sight
          
           
             To
             narrow
             bounds
             ;
             Flow'rs
             in
             no
             shades
             delight
             .
          
           
             Break
             with
             the
             Rake
             ,
             if
             stiffer
             clods
             abound
             ,
          
           
             And
             with
             ir'n
             rollers
             level
             well
             the
             ground
             .
          
           
             Nor
             yet
             make
             haste
             your
             borders
             to
             describe
             ;
          
           
             But
             let
             the
             earth
             the
             Autumn
             show'rs
             imbibe
             ;
          
           
             That
             after
             it
             hath
             felt
             the
             Winter
             cold
             ,
          
           
             You
             may
             next
             Spring
             turn
             up
             ,
             &
             rake
             the
             mold
             .
          
           
           
             This
             done
             ,
             your
             Box
             in
             various
             forms
             dispose
             ,
          
           
             Such
             as
             were
             heretofore
             unknown
             to
             those
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             gardens
             nothing
             ow'd
             to
             modern
             art
             ;
          
           
             Deckt
             by
             what
             kinder
             Nature
             did
             impart
             ,
          
           
             Among
             ignobler
             Plants
             you
             then
             might
             view
             ,
          
           
             Where
             blushing
             Roses
             intermingled
             grew
             :
          
           
             No
             spacious
             Walks
             ,
             no
             Alleys
             were
             design'd
             ,
          
           
             Edg'd
             by
             green
             Box
             ,
             all
             yet
             was
             unrefin'd
             .
          
        
         
           
             Flora
             at
             first
             was
             unadorn'd
             ,
             and
             rude
             ;
          
           
             Happ'ning
             at
             Liber's
             Orgies
             to
             intrude
             .
          
           
             The
             Feast
             approch'd
             ,
             the
             neighb'ring
             Deities
          
           
             Were
             present
             ;
             thither
             old
             Silenus
             hies
             ,
          
           
             Mounted
             on
             's
             Ass
             ;
             with
             whom
             the
             Satyrs
             joyn
          
           
             In
             drunken
             Bacchanals
             ,
             and
             sparkling
             Wine
             .
          
           
             Here
             Cibele
             through
             Phrygia
             so
             rever'd
             .
          
           
             And
             with
             the
             rest
             our
             Flora
             too
             appear'd
             :
          
           
           
             Her
             hair
             upon
             her
             shoulders
             loosely
             plaid
             ;
          
           
             Or
             pride
             ,
             or
             beauty
             this
             neglect
             had
             made
             .
          
           
             How
             e're
             it
             was
             ,
             the
             other
             Goddesses
          
           
             Laugh'd
             ,
             and
             despis'd
             the
             rudenss
             of
             her
             dress
             .
          
           
             This
             pity
             mov'd
             in
             Berecinthia's
             heart
             ,
          
           
             Who
             griev'd
             to
             see
             her
             Daughter
             want
             that
             art
             ,
          
           
             Which
             others
             us'd
             ;
             and
             therefore
             to
             repair
          
           
             Those
             imperfections
             ,
             she
             adorn'd
             her
             hair
          
           
             With
             various
             flow'rs
             ;
             her
             temples
             these
             inclose
             ,
          
           
             And
             Box
             which
             Nature
             on
             each
             field
             bestows
             .
          
           
             Her
             Mine's
             now
             alt'red
             ,
             every
             charming
             grace
          
           
             Strives
             to
             be
             most
             conspicuous
             in
             her
             face
             .
          
        
         
           
             As
             this
             to
             Flora
             greater
             beauty
             gives
             ;
          
           
             So
             hence
             the
             Gard'ner
             all
             his
             art
             derives
             .
          
           
             The
             Romans
             ,
             and
             the
             Grecians
             knew
             not
             how
          
           
             To
             form
             their
             Paths
             ,
             and
             set
             their
             Flowers
             as
             now
             .
          
           
           
             Goodness
             of
             air
             and
             soyl
             perhaps
             might
             be
          
           
             Occasions
             of
             our
             curiosity
          
           
             In
             Gardens
             ;
             and
             the
             Genius
             too
             of
             France
             ,
          
           
             With
             time
             ,
             this
             blest
             improvement
             might
             advance
             .
          
        
         
           
             So
             that
             if
             you
             a
             Villa
             do
             desire
          
           
             With
             Gardens
             ,
             for
             a
             skilful
             man
             enquire
             ;
          
           
             Who
             with
             his
             Pensil
             can
             on
             Parchment
             draw
          
           
             The
             form
             of
             your
             intended
             Work.
             No
             flaw
             ,
          
           
             No
             errour
             '
             scapes
             you
             :
             Thus
             deformity
          
           
             Timely
             appears
             to
             your
             considerate
             eye
             .
          
        
         
           
             In
             thousand
             Figures
             some
             their
             Box
             infold
             ,
          
           
             As
             was
             the
             Cretan
             Labyrinth
             of
             old
             .
          
           
             These
             artificial
             Mazes
             some
             reject
             ,
          
           
             Who
             more
             the
             Phrygian
             Flourishes
             affect
             :
          
           
             And
             these
             as
             many
             various
             textures
             taught
             ,
          
           
             As
             uncomb'd
             wool
             by
             Tyrian
             Virgins
             wrought
             .
          
           
           
             Others
             with
             Squares
             ,
             less
             diff'rent
             ,
             strive
             to
             please
          
           
             Themselves
             ,
             in
             which
             the
             fragrant
             flow'rs
             with
             ease
             ,
          
           
             And
             pleasure
             too
             ,
             may
             stoop
             to
             the
             command
          
           
             Of
             the
             spectators
             eye
             ,
             and
             gath'rers
             hand
             .
          
        
         
           
             I
             will
             not
             divers
             knots
             to
             you
             suggest
             ,
          
           
             To
             chuse
             of
             them
             which
             please
             your
             fancy
             best
             ;
          
           
             That
             is
             preferable
             beyond
             compare
             ,
          
           
             Which
             with
             the
             scantling
             of
             your
             ground
             doth
             square
             .
          
        
         
           
             When
             all
             things
             thus
             provided
             are
             ,
             again
          
           
             Level
             your
             ground
             ,
             that
             ,
             being
             smooth
             &
             plain
             ,
          
           
             Garden
             ,
             and
             borders
             both
             may
             even
             be
             ,
          
           
             Admitting
             no
             irregularity
             .
          
        
         
           
             As
             soon
             as
             snowy
             Winter
             disappears
             ,
          
           
             In
             planting
             Box
             employ
             your
             Labourers
             :
          
           
           
             You
             must
             not
             trifle
             then
             ,
             let
             no
             delay
          
           
             Retard
             ,
             when
             Sun
             and
             temp'rate
             air
             give
             way
             :
          
        
         
           
             Where
             smaller
             limits
             cannot
             this
             afford
             ,
          
           
             With
             brick
             they
             must
             contented
             be
             ,
             or
             board
             :
          
           
             For
             Box
             would
             there
             the
             flowers
             over-shade
             ,
          
           
             And
             too
             much
             of
             the
             narrow
             spot
             invade
             .
          
           
             This
             rule
             for
             larger
             Gardens
             was
             not
             meant
             ,
          
           
             Where
             Box
             is
             thought
             the
             greatest
             ornament
             .
          
           
             And
             howsoe're
             you
             cultivate
             a
             place
             ;
          
           
             If
             it
             wants
             Box
             ,
             you
             take
             away
             its
             grace
             .
          
        
         
           
             In
             flow'rs
             so
             great
             a
             difference
             we
             find
             ,
          
           
             Do
             we
             regard
             their
             natures
             ,
             or
             their
             kind
             ;
          
           
             That
             a
             good
             Florist
             cannot
             do
             amiss
             ,
          
           
             To
             learn
             their
             natures
             ,
             and
             their
             properties
             :
          
           
             Chiefly
             the
             seasons
             when
             to
             set
             and
             Sow
             ,
          
           
             And
             in
             what
             soyl
             what
             Plants
             do
             use
             to
             grow
             .
          
           
           
             The
             seeds
             ,
             and
             sorts
             of
             flow'rs
             no
             number
             own
             ;
          
           
             Neither
             is
             that
             of
             Bulbous
             roots
             more
             known
             .
          
           
             The
             tenderness
             of
             some
             makes
             them
             desire
          
           
             Propitious
             Spring
             ,
             that
             then
             they
             may
             aspire
          
           
             Into
             the
             air
             ;
             while
             others
             which
             are
             bold
             ,
          
           
             Contemn
             North-winds
             ,
             and
             flourish
             through
             the
             cold
             .
          
           
             These
             love
             the
             warmer
             sun
             ;
             those
             ,
             cooler
             shade
             .
          
           
             Nor
             is
             the
             vigor
             equally
             convai'd
          
           
             To
             all
             from
             th'
             earth
             ;
             for
             flowers
             will
             abound
          
           
             Sometimes
             in
             dry
             ,
             oft
             in
             unfruitful
             ground
             .
          
           
             Earth
             that
             is
             barren
             ,
             and
             do's
             stones
             produce
             ,
          
           
             Though
             often
             't
             is
             improper
             ,
             is
             of
             use
          
           
             Sometimes
             in
             raising
             flow'rs
             :
             Therefore
             again
          
           
             I
             must
             give
             warning
             to
             the
             Husbandman
             ,
          
           
             That
             he
             observe
             the
             seasons
             ,
             and
             with
             care
          
           
             Read
             the
             contents
             of
             the
             Celestial
             Sphear
             :
          
           
             That
             he
             take
             notice
             in
             the
             monethly
             state
             ,
          
           
             And
             order
             ,
             how
             the
             Stars
             discrminate
             .
          
           
           
             What
             alterations
             ,
             in
             the
             calmer
             air
             ?
          
           
             The
             East
             ,
             and
             troubled
             Southern
             winds
             prepare
             :
          
           
             That
             from
             the
             Rise
             and
             Setting
             of
             the
             Sun
             ,
          
           
             And
             by
             the
             aspect
             of
             the
             horned
             Moon
             ,
          
           
             Showers
             to
             come
             ,
             and
             tempests
             he
             presage
             ,
          
           
             And
             how
             to
             Heav'n
             we
             may
             our
             faith
             engage
             .
          
           
             Wherein
             the
             greater
             and
             the
             lesser
             Bear
          
           
             Do's
             your
             Plantations
             infest
             ,
             or
             spare
             :
          
           
             How
             far
             the
             Hyads
             with
             excessive
             showers
             ,
          
           
             And
             the
             
               Atlantick
               Pleiads
            
             hurt
             your
             flowers
             .
          
           
             Who
             th'
             observation
             of
             the
             stars
             neglect
             ,
          
           
             Too
             late
             are
             sensible
             of
             their
             effect
             .
          
           
             They
             with
             our
             labours
             correspondence
             hold
             ,
          
           
             And
             all
             the
             secrets
             of
             our
             Art
             infold
             .
          
        
         
           
             To
             be
             more
             sure
             ,
             you
             ought
             before
             to
             know
          
           
             The
             Winds
             ,
             and
             diff'rent
             Quarters
             whence
             they
             blow
             .
          
           
           
             Else
             other
             Gardens
             you
             in
             vain
             admire
             ;
          
           
             Though
             Western
             Breezes
             with
             the
             Spring
             conspire
             ,
          
           
             Yet
             no
             appearance
             of
             the
             Winds
             obey
             ;
          
           
             For
             most
             of
             all
             they
             now
             their
             faith
             betray
             .
          
           
             If
             Aries
             with
             his
             golden
             fleece
             appear
             ,
          
           
             And
             Zephyrus
             foretells
             the
             Spring
             is
             near
             ;
          
           
             Yet
             some
             unlucky
             Planet
             menaces
          
           
             The
             Fields
             ,
             and
             Gardens
             ,
             and
             disturbs
             the
             Skies
             .
          
           
             The
             South-wind
             now
             against
             the
             Corn
             ,
             and
             Flowers
             ,
          
           
             Rages
             with
             frequent
             and
             destructive
             showers
             .
          
           
             Of
             the
             remaining
             cold
             we
             should
             beware
             ,
          
           
             And
             see
             if
             ought
             of
             Winter
             hang
             i'
             th'
             air
             ;
          
           
             It
             s
             cruel
             footsteps
             often
             stay
             behind
             :
          
           
             Therefore
             remember
             still
             to
             bear
             in
             mind
          
           
             The
             Seasons
             that
             most
             proper
             are
             to
             sow
             ;
          
           
             For
             thus
             your
             seed
             will
             prosper
             best
             ,
             and
             grow
             .
          
           
           
             As
             soon
             as
             e're
             the
             knots
             have
             fill'd
             their
             space
             ,
          
           
             Lest
             noxious
             weeds
             should
             over-spread
             the
             place
             ,
          
           
             Between
             the
             Borders
             ,
             and
             the
             Beds
             ,
             you
             may
          
           
             Lay
             Gravel
             ,
             and
             so
             take
             the
             weeds
             away
             ;
          
           
             For
             if
             you
             suffer
             them
             to
             get
             to
             head
             ,
          
           
             Mallows
             &
             Thistles
             o're
             your
             walks
             will
             spread
             .
          
           
             But
             let
             not
             this
             check
             your
             design
             at
             all
             ;
          
           
             The
             earth
             in
             time
             will
             be
             reciprocal
             .
          
           
             No
             sooner
             has
             the
             Sun
             o'recome
             the
             cold
             ,
          
           
             When
             with
             astonishment
             you
             will
             behold
          
           
             Your
             Gardens
             riches
             ,
             whither
             far
             then
             snow
             ,
          
           
             On
             a
             broad
             leaf
             the
             Primrose
             first
             will
             blow
             .
          
           
             It
             keeps
             not
             always
             constant
             to
             a
             dye
             ,
          
           
             But
             loves
             its
             colours
             to
             diversifie
             .
          
           
             The
             Grecian
             Cyclamine
             from
             far
             they
             bring
             ,
          
           
             The
             red
             and
             white
             both
             flourish
             in
             the
             Spring
             ;
          
           
           
             Woody
             Zacynthus
             ,
             stony
             Coritus
             ,
          
           
             And
             Corcyraean
             Mountains
             these
             produce
             :
          
           
             I'
             th'
             Summer
             moneths
             they
             flourish
             ,
             and
             though
             late
             ,
          
           
             In
             Autumn
             too
             their
             flowers
             propagate
             .
          
        
         
           
             Theis
             Season
             soft
             Fumaria
             too
             obeys
             ,
          
           
             And
             in
             Bavarian
             Rocks
             it self
             displays
          
           
             In
             various
             colours
             ;
             but
             is
             known
             to
             die
             ;
          
           
             Soon
             as
             we
             hear
             th'
             Artill'ry
             of
             the
             Sky
             ;
          
           
             Blasted
             by
             Sulph'rous
             vapours
             ,
             as
             if
             dead
             ,
          
           
             It
             droops
             ,
             and
             yields
             to
             th'
             earth
             its
             vanquisht
             head
             .
          
           
             Now
             Iris
             springs
             ,
             which
             from
             the
             heav'nly
             Bow
             ,
          
           
             Is
             nam'd
             ,
             and
             doth
             as
             many
             colours
             show
             .
          
           
             Its
             Species
             ,
             and
             its
             Tinctures
             diff'rent
             are
             ,
          
           
             According
             to
             the
             seasons
             of
             the
             year
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             By
             th'
             coming
             of
             the
             Swallows
             we
             divine
             ,
          
           
             'T
             will
             not
             be
             long
             before
             that
             Celandine
             ,
          
           
             Which
             from
             that
             bird
             alone
             its
             name
             derives
             ,
          
           
             Favour'd
             by
             gentler
             Western-winds
             revives
             .
          
        
         
           
             Golden
             Narcissus
             also
             now
             aspires
             ;
          
           
             Who
             looking
             on
             himself
             ,
             himself
             admires
             ,
          
           
             He
             fondly
             tempting
             the
             destructive
             Pow'r
          
           
             Of
             Beauty
             ,
             from
             a
             Boy
             became
             a
             Flow'r
             .
          
        
         
           
             Nor
             longer
             can
             the
             Violets
             suppress
          
           
             Their
             odours
             ,
             clouded
             in
             a
             rustick
             dress
             ;
          
           
             Girt
             round
             with
             Leaves
             ,
             without
             varieties
          
           
             Of
             colours
             ,
             from
             the
             humble
             turf
             they
             rise
             .
          
           
             If
             we
             may
             credit
             what
             the
             Poets
             write
             ,
          
           
             She
             was
             Diana's
             Nymph
             ,
             her
             sole
             delight
             .
          
           
             With
             her
             Ianthis
             follow'd
             in
             each
             chace
             ,
          
           
             Next
             to
             the
             Goddess
             ,
             after
             none
             in
             place
             .
          
           
           
             As
             she
             was
             feeding
             the
             Pherean
             Cows
             ,
          
           
             By
             Phoebus
             seen
             ,
             in
             love
             with
             her
             he
             grows
             :
          
           
             Nor
             could
             he
             long
             conceal
             within
             his
             breast
          
           
             Loves
             wound
             ,
             the
             frighted
             Maiden
             straight
             addrest
          
           
             Her self
             to
             th'
             Goddess
             .
             Ah!
             dear
             sister
             ,
             fly
             ,
          
           
             Said
             she
             ,
             if
             you
             'l
             preserve
             Virginity
          
           
             Untouch't
             :
             you
             must
             all
             open
             grounds
             sorbear
             ,
          
           
             And
             lofty
             hills
             ,
             for
             he
             'l
             pursue
             you
             there
             .
          
           
             To
             Thickets
             ,
             and
             for
             saken
             Vales
             she
             hyes
             ,
          
           
             And
             all
             alone
             by
             shady
             Fountains
             lyes
             .
          
           
             Nor
             did
             her
             modesty
             her
             form
             depress
             ,
          
           
             But
             she
             was
             valued
             more
             ,
             for
             her
             recess
             .
          
           
             The
             God
             perceiving
             nothing
             else
             avail
             ,
          
           
             Attempts
             by
             theft
             ,
             and
             cunning
             to
             prevail
             .
          
           
             Diana
             then
             foreseeing
             't
             was
             in
             vain
          
           
             To
             think
             with
             life
             her
             honour
             to
             maintain
             ;
          
           
           
             Ah!
             let
             that
             beauty
             perish
             then
             ,
             she
             said
             ,
          
           
             And
             soon
             a
             duskish
             colour
             did
             invade
          
           
             The
             changing
             Nymph
             ,
             who
             rather
             chose
             to
             be
          
           
             Still
             virtuous
             ,
             though
             with
             deformity
             .
          
           
             The
             fields
             and
             lower
             valleys
             these
             afford
             ,
          
           
             And
             among
             brambles
             of
             their
             own
             accord
             ,
          
           
             They
             spring
             ;
             nor
             should
             their
             site
             at
             all
             abate
          
           
             Of
             their
             esteem
             ,
             whose
             value
             is
             so
             great
             .
          
        
         
           
             If
             sharper
             cold
             give
             leave
             ,
             about
             this
             time
          
           
             The
             Hyacinth
             shoots
             up
             from
             Phoebus
             crime
             .
          
           
             At
             Quoits
             he
             playing
             ,
             by
             Eurota's
             side
             ,
          
           
             Chanc'd
             the
             boy's
             tender
             temples
             to
             divide
             .
          
           
             The
             God
             and
             youth
             at
             once
             appalled
             stood
             ?
          
           
             He
             through
             his
             guilt
             ,
             and
             he
             through
             want
             of
             bloud
             ;
          
           
             From
             which
             ,
             in
             pity
             of
             his
             angry
             fate
             ,
          
           
             A
             flow'r
             arose
             ,
             which
             oft
             do's
             change
             its
             state
             ,
          
           
           
             And
             colour
             ;
             and
             to
             one
             peculiar
             kind
             ,
          
           
             No
             more
             then
             to
             one
             season
             is
             confin'd
             .
          
        
         
           
             Now
             Meadow-Saffron
             divers
             colours
             yields
             ;
          
           
             And
             on
             a
             slender
             stalk
             adorns
             the
             fields
             .
          
        
         
           
             Th'
             earth
             grown
             by
             reason
             of
             internal
             heat
             ,
          
           
             Patient
             of
             Culture
             ,
             let
             your
             Gard'ner
             set
          
           
             In
             beds
             prepar'd
             ,
             what
             Seeds
             he
             do's
             intend
          
           
             For
             Summer
             ,
             and
             with
             care
             their
             growth
             attend
          
           
             As
             Linum
             ,
             Caltha
             ,
             Lychnis
             ,
             Cyanies
             ,
          
           
             Malva
             ,
             Delphinium
             ,
             and
             Anthemis
             ,
          
           
             With
             fragrant
             Melilot
             for
             seed
             receiv'd
             ,
          
           
             In
             ground
             before
             prepar'd
             ,
             may
             be
             reliev'd
             ,
          
           
             If
             th'
             earth
             defective
             be
             by
             being
             drest
             ;
          
           
             Or
             by
             refreshing
             streams
             if
             drowth
             molest
             :
          
           
             It
             were
             an
             endless
             labour
             to
             set
             down
          
           
             The
             flow'rs
             ,
             which
             in
             the
             Spring
             are
             to
             be
             sown
          
           
           
             The
             moister
             Spring
             makes
             all
             in
             time
             appear
             ;
          
           
             And
             shews
             the
             hopes
             of
             the
             succeeding
             year
             .
          
        
         
           
             Then
             ,
             above
             all
             the
             flowers
             in
             the
             bed
             ,
          
           
             The
             Crown
             Imperial
             elevates
             his
             head
             :
          
           
             Around
             him
             all
             the
             num'rous
             vulgar
             spring
             ;
          
           
             As
             if
             they
             humbly
             would
             salute
             their
             King.
             
          
        
         
           
             Beneath
             the
             top
             a
             golden
             Crown
             is
             plac't
             ;
          
           
             This
             by
             a
             verdant
             tuft
             of
             leaves
             is
             grac't
             :
          
           
             Four
             flow'rs
             ,
             with
             leaves
             inverted
             to
             the
             earth
             ,
          
           
             Do
             from
             one
             stalk
             alone
             derive
             their
             birth
             .
          
           
             Nor
             would
             there
             any
             other
             this
             excell
             ,
          
           
             If
             to
             its
             Beauty
             ,
             were
             but
             added
             smell
             .
          
        
         
           
             Let
             not
             your
             Tulips
             ,
             through
             the
             vernal
             show'rs
             ,
          
           
             Make
             too
             much
             haste
             ,
             to
             spread
             abroad
             their
             flow'rs
             .
          
           
           
             For
             th'
             heavy
             aspects
             of
             the
             Moon
             would
             prove
             ,
          
           
             With
             frost
             pernicious
             to
             them
             which
             love
          
           
             To
             flourish
             most
             ;
             when
             Winters
             cold
             gives
             way
             ,
          
           
             And
             glad
             some
             Sun
             shine
             do's
             serene
             the
             day
             .
          
           
             Then
             on
             the
             beds
             in
             thicker
             ranks
             they
             stand
             ,
          
           
             And
             in
             the
             air
             their
             spotted
             leaves
             expand
             .
          
           
             Their
             beauty
             chiefly
             from
             their
             colour
             flows
             ;
          
           
             For
             whither
             on
             the
             leaves
             they
             do
             inclose
          
           
             A
             snowy
             whiteness
             intermixt
             with
             red
             ;
          
           
             Or
             like
             the
             Crimson
             Bloud
             a
             Purple
             shed
             ;
          
           
             Or
             the
             deep
             Murrey
             into
             Wan
             decay'd
             ;
          
           
             Like
             a
             pale
             Widow
             under
             a
             black
             shade
             ;
          
           
             Or
             in
             strip'd
             strakes
             with
             py'd
             Achates
             vies
             ,
          
           
             The
             Tulip
             from
             the
             rest
             still
             bears
             the
             prize
             .
          
        
         
           
             Though
             now
             a
             flow'r
             ,
             yet
             Dalmatis
             before
             ,
          
           
             Hard
             by
             Timavus
             Sping
             a
             blew
             Nymph
             bore
             ;
          
           
           
             This
             was
             her
             mother
             :
             changing
             Proteus
          
           
             Her
             Father
             was
             ;
             whose
             fickle
             Genius
          
           
             She
             follows
             ,
             when
             Vertumnus
             had
             searcht
             o're
          
           
             The
             world
             ,
             at
             last
             near
             to
             Timavus
             shore
             ,
          
           
             In
             the
             Illyrian
             bounds
             ,
             the
             Maid
             he
             sees
             ;
          
           
             And
             while
             with
             flatt'ring
             words
             he
             strives
             to
             please
          
           
             His
             Mistress
             ,
             she
             from
             his
             addresses
             flies
             ,
          
           
             Though
             in
             her
             colours
             he
             diversifies
          
           
             Himself
             ,
             yet
             still
             she
             frustrate
             his
             desires
             ;
          
           
             And
             would
             not
             nourish
             his
             unlawful
             fires
             .
          
           
             At
             last
             ,
             in
             hopes
             this
             would
             all
             doubts
             remove
             ,
          
           
             He
             tells
             her
             he
             's
             a
             God
             ,
             a
             God
             in
             love
             .
          
           
             Yet
             she
             persists
             ;
             which
             causes
             him
             to
             try
          
           
             By
             force
             to
             make
             the
             tender
             Maid
             comply
             :
          
           
             Now
             she
             implores
             the
             Gods
             ,
             and
             by
             their
             pow'r
          
           
             T'
             avoid
             the
             ravisher
             ,
             becomes
             a
             flow'r
             .
          
           
           
             The
             ornaments
             and
             fillets
             which
             adorn'd
          
           
             Her
             head
             and
             golden
             hair
             ,
             to
             leaves
             were
             turn'd
             .
          
           
             Where
             her
             breast
             was
             ,
             a
             slender
             stalk
             do's
             grow
             '
          
           
             Girt
             with
             a
             tuft
             of
             spreading
             leaves
             below
             ;
          
           
             In
             an
             orbic'lar
             figure
             ,
             like
             a
             Cup
             ,
          
           
             Upon
             this
             stalk
             a
             slower
             rises
             up
             ,
          
           
             Consisting
             of
             six
             leaves
             ,
             which
             proudly
             show
          
           
             The
             diff'rent
             colours
             Nature
             can
             bestow
             .
          
        
         
           
             This
             Nymph
             ,
             though
             now
             a
             Flower
             ,
             cannot
             yet
          
           
             Her
             fancy
             for
             strange
             colour'd
             clothes
             forget
             .
          
        
         
           
             In
             the
             worst
             mold
             this
             flower
             better
             thrives
             ;
          
           
             And
             barren
             earth
             miraculously
             gives
          
           
             More
             beauty
             to
             it
             ,
             then
             a
             fertile
             ground
             ,
          
           
             And
             when
             least
             strong
             ,
             it
             is
             most
             comely
             found
             .
          
           
             If
             to
             your
             Tulips
             you
             will
             adde
             more
             grace
             ,
          
           
             'T
             is
             best
             to
             set
             them
             in
             a
             fainter
             place
             .
          
           
           
             For
             if
             you
             put
             them
             in
             a
             richer
             bed
             ,
          
           
             The
             goodness
             of
             the
             soyl
             will
             make
             them
             red
             .
          
        
         
           
             Wen
             out
             of
             ev'ry
             bed
             the
             flow'rs
             disclose
          
           
             Themselves
             ,
             if
             that
             the
             humid
             South-wind
             blows
             ,
          
           
             Or
             from
             the
             drier
             North
             if
             Boreas
             move
             ,
          
           
             Bring
             Garlands
             to
             the
             Altars
             ;
             for
             they
             love
          
           
             With
             these
             to
             be
             adorn'd
             .
             Thus
             Glycera
          
           
             Appeas'd
             great
             Iove
             ,
             and
             did
             the
             storms
             allay
             .
          
           
             A
             flow'ry
             Wreath
             was
             then
             the
             ornament
             ,
          
           
             With
             which
             the
             modest
             temples
             were
             content
             .
          
           
             Profuseness
             had
             not
             on
             the
             vulgar
             gain'd
             ;
          
           
             And
             Vows
             to
             lesser
             bounds
             were
             then
             restrain'd
             .
          
        
         
           
             I
             by
             my
             own
             experience
             do
             find
             ,
          
           
             That
             a
             wet
             April
             with
             a
             Southern
             wind
             ,
          
           
           
             Destroys
             the
             horrour
             of
             the
             Spring
             again
             ,
          
           
             And
             makes
             our
             early
             expectations
             vain
             .
          
           
             Throughout
             the
             Sabine
             Valleys
             heretosore
          
           
             Bath'd
             all
             in
             Wine
             ,
             the
             Shepherds
             us'd
             t'
             adore
          
           
             Celestial
             Pales
             :
             Hay
             was
             th'
             Ossering
             ,
          
           
             Which
             for
             their
             Seed
             &
             Cattle
             they
             did
             bring
             ;
          
           
             The
             Chaff
             consum'd
             th'
             Infernals
             to
             appease
             :
          
           
             Them
             with
             their
             Februan
             Rites
             they
             strove
             to
             please
             .
          
        
         
           
             That
             Moneth
             o're
             which
             the
             Ram
             is
             president
             ,
          
           
             Brings
             forth
             the
             Bellides
             ,
             the
             ornament
          
           
             Of
             Virgins
             now
             ,
             though
             heretofore
             they
             were
          
           
             Nymphs
             of
             the
             Meads
             themselves
             ;
             among
             them
             are
          
           
             Those
             of
             the
             Woods
             ,
             whose
             stalks
             discriminate
          
           
             Their
             Species
             ,
             from
             them
             which
             propagate
          
           
           
             Themselves
             in
             Gardens
             ,
             made
             of
             finer
             threads
             ,
          
           
             On
             lesser
             stalks
             these
             shew
             their
             painted
             heads
             .
          
        
         
           
             The
             white
             
               Etrurian
               Iris
            
             now
             appears
             ;
          
           
             But
             those
             are
             yellow
             ,
             Lusitania
             bears
             :
          
           
             One
             ,
             for
             its
             figure
             ,
             is
             by
             some
             desir'd
             ;
          
           
             The
             other
             ,
             for
             its
             colour
             ,
             more
             admir'd
             .
          
        
         
           
             With
             leaves
             condens't
             on
             the
             Iberian
             hills
          
           
             Exalted
             high
             ,
             now
             springs
             the
             Daffodills
             ;
          
           
             And
             Water-mint
             in
             moister
             vales
             we
             find
             ,
          
           
             For
             Garlands
             fit
             ,
             when
             't
             is
             with
             Myrtle
             joyn'd
             .
          
           
             With
             its
             three
             colours
             too
             the
             flow'r
             of
             Iove
          
           
             We
             see
             ,
             which
             had
             it
             Smell
             ,
             would
             equal
             prove
          
           
             To
             th'
             Violets
             :
             Adonis
             also
             flow'rs
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             loss
             
               Idalian
               Venus
            
             so
             deplores
             .
          
        
         
           
             And
             thou
             Ranunculus
             ,
             whose
             fame
             resounds
          
           
             Among
             the
             Nymphs
             that
             dwell
             in
             Lybian
             bounds
             .
          
           
           
             Thou
             through
             the
             fields
             in
             parti-colour'd
             dress
          
           
             Aspir'st
             ,
             thy
             paleness
             do's
             thy
             thoughts
             confess
             .
          
           
             The
             love-sick
             youth
             once
             with
             the
             same
             desire
          
           
             Inflam'd
             himself
             ,
             and
             set
             the
             Nymphs
             on
             fire
             .
          
        
         
           
             These
             flow'rs
             with
             easie
             culture
             are
             content
             ;
          
           
             The
             Mattock
             ,
             Rake
             ,
             or
             other
             Instrument
             ,
          
           
             They
             trouble
             not
             ;
             for
             if
             with
             fast'ned
             root
          
           
             Into
             the
             air
             they
             once
             but
             dare
             to
             shoot
             ,
          
           
             The
             bed
             once
             made
             ,
             by
             wat'ring
             them
             you
             gain
          
           
             So
             much
             of
             pleasure
             for
             so
             little
             pain
             .
          
           
             Nor
             yellow
             Calthae
             with
             their
             paler
             light
          
           
             Would
             I
             forget
             ,
             shew'd
             first
             to
             Acis
             sight
          
           
             On
             the
             Sicilian
             shore
             ;
             which
             from
             the
             Sun
             ,
          
           
             Towards
             which
             they
             look
             ,
             draw
             their
             complexion
             .
          
        
         
           
             With
             curled
             threads
             ,
             and
             top
             divided
             now
          
           
             Along
             the
             margin
             of
             your
             borders
             grow
          
           
           
             Stock-Gilly-flow'rs
             ,
             whose
             blushing
             leaf
             may
             fear
             ,
          
           
             And
             justly
             too
             ,
             the
             sharpness
             of
             the
             air
             .
          
           
             Therefore
             because
             they
             cannot
             well
             preserve
          
           
             Themselves
             against
             ill
             weather
             ,
             they
             deserve
          
           
             A
             place
             in
             earthen
             pots
             ;
             the
             best
             defence
          
           
             Against
             the
             North
             ,
             and
             Winters
             violence
             .
          
           
             Then
             if
             November
             with
             its
             horrid
             show'rs
          
           
             Should
             rage
             ,
             it
             cannot
             prejudice
             your
             flow'rs
             .
          
           
             For
             thus
             dispos'd
             ,
             when
             danger
             menaces
             ,
          
           
             To
             warmer
             sheds
             they
             are
             remov'd
             with
             ease
             .
          
        
         
           
             Our
             fields
             may
             now
             of
             that
             Sambucus
             boast
             ,
          
           
             Which
             first
             was
             borrow'd
             from
             the
             Geldrian
             Coast
             ;
          
           
             It
             s
             candid
             flow'rs
             when
             they
             themselves
             dilate
             ,
          
           
             Do
             most
             the
             swelling
             Roses
             imitate
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             To
             make
             the
             year
             prove
             kind
             ,
             Postumius
          
           
             I'
             th'
             Mayan
             Calends
             fi●st
             did
             introduce
          
           
             The
             Rites
             of
             Flora
             ;
             for
             the
             Husbandman
          
           
             In
             Rural
             matters
             newly
             then
             began
          
           
             T'
             employ
             himself
             ,
             his
             hair
             with
             Privet
             bound
             ;
          
           
             About
             the
             place
             the
             Floral
             Rites
             resound
             .
          
           
             Swains
             to
             their
             Temples
             pleited
             Garlands
             joyn
             ;
          
           
             Then
             new-blown
             flow'rs
             they
             offer'd
             at
             the
             Shrine
          
           
             O'
             th'
             Goddess
             ;
             for
             such
             Off
             '
             rings
             as
             these
          
           
             Did
             best
             the
             Mother
             of
             the
             flow'rs
             appease
             .
          
           
             But
             when
             the
             Ram
             ,
             who
             boldly
             heretofore
          
           
             Upon
             his
             back
             essay'd
             to
             carry
             o're
          
           
             His
             Helle
             ,
             disappears
             ,
             from
             other
             seed
          
           
             Another
             race
             of
             flow'rs
             will
             succeed
             .
          
           
           
             If
             with
             kind
             aspects
             gentle
             Mercury
          
           
             Favour
             his
             mother
             Maia
             from
             the
             Sky
             ;
          
           
             If
             the
             Olenian
             Goat
             no
             storms
             portend
             ,
          
           
             And
             no
             black
             showers
             from
             the
             clouds
             descend
             ;
          
           
             Now
             ,
             more
             then
             ever
             ,
             will
             the
             wanton
             ground
          
           
             With
             all
             the
             Species
             of
             Herbs
             abound
             .
          
           
             The
             prickly
             Hedges
             now
             their
             Odours
             give
             ;
          
           
             And
             Tam'risks
             with
             their
             precious
             leaves
             revive
             .
          
           
             Soft
             Cicer
             too
             will
             flourish
             ,
             and
             green
             Broom
             ,
          
           
             With
             Colocasia
             which
             from
             Egypt
             come
             ;
          
           
             Acanthus
             girt
             with
             knots
             ,
             and
             thorns
             ,
             we
             see
             ,
          
           
             And
             bright
             Parthenium
             ,
             with
             Rosemary
             ,
          
           
             Triorchis
             ,
             Sage
             ,
             and
             Parsley
             ,
             once
             the
             Meed
             ,
          
           
             Which
             to
             the
             Istmian
             Victor
             was
             decreed
             ;
          
           
             Dames
             Violets
             appear
             ,
             with
             Meadow-Rue
             ;
          
           
             Among
             the
             
               Alps
               Phalangium
            
             we
             pursue
             .
          
           
           
             Through
             Allobrogian
             Vales
             Isopyrum
             ,
          
           
             Time
             ,
             
               Rhamnus
               ,
               Housleek
            
             ,
             and
             Antirrhinum
             ,
          
           
             With
             woody
             Nard
             ,
             
               Arcadian
               Moly
            
             that
          
           
             Which
             Homers
             Poems
             so
             much
             celebrate
             .
          
           
             By
             the
             same
             culture
             these
             we
             raise
             from
             Seed
             :
          
           
             With
             them
             invest
             your
             fields
             ,
             let
             ev'ry
             bed
          
           
             Be
             then
             replenisht
             ;
             for
             a
             naked
             space
          
           
             The
             honour
             of
             your
             Garden
             would
             disgrace
             .
          
           
             The
             Seasons
             known
             ,
             next
             learn
             how
             deep
             in
             mold
          
           
             You
             ought
             the
             seeds
             of
             flowers
             to
             infold
             .
          
        
         
           
             Among
             high
             branches
             lofty
             Piony
          
           
             Proudly
             aspires
             ,
             stain'd
             with
             a
             Crimson-dye
             .
          
           
             A
             colour
             ,
             as
             it
             guilty
             odours
             show
             ,
          
           
             Its
             crimes
             ,
             and
             not
             its
             blushes
             did
             bestow
             .
          
           
             A
             happy
             Nymph
             ,
             if
             her
             more
             peaceful
             hours
          
           
             Had
             not
             been
             troubled
             by
             divine
             amours
             ;
          
           
           
             Mortal
             addresses
             she
             resus'd
             ,
             as
             vain
             ,
          
           
             Guarding
             Alcinous
             sheep
             upon
             the
             Plain
             .
          
           
             And
             nothing
             yet
             perhaps
             had
             made
             her
             yield
             ,
          
           
             Till
             an
             immortal
             Lover
             won
             the
             field
             .
          
        
         
           
             Convolvulus
             disdaining
             to
             be
             bound
          
           
             With
             divers
             flow'rs
             dilated
             ,
             now
             is
             found
          
           
             In
             the
             moist
             Vales
             ;
             then
             mighty
             Nature
             wrought
             ,
          
           
             While
             Lillies
             once
             employ'd
             her
             busie
             thought
             ,
          
           
             A
             little
             work
             ,
             if
             with
             the
             rest
             compar'd
             ;
          
           
             When
             she
             to
             greater
             things
             her
             felf
             prepar'd
             .
          
        
         
           
             Blew-bottle
             ,
             Lark-spur
             ,
             of
             their
             own
             accord
          
           
             Now
             in
             the
             fields
             their
             diff'rent
             leaves
             afford
             .
          
           
             Painted
             Blattaria
             ,
             pois'nous
             Aconite
          
           
             Wolss-grass
             ,
             wild
             Basil
             ,
             Fennel
             which
             delight
          
           
           
             In
             various
             forms
             and
             colours
             all
             ,
             and
             now
          
           
             Along
             the
             borders
             all
             their
             beauties
             show
             .
          
        
         
           
             These
             ,
             and
             a
             thousand
             others
             will
             contend
          
           
             T'
             enrich
             your
             Garden
             ;
             Odours
             too
             ascend
          
           
             Spreading
             themselves
             through
             the
             serener
             air
             ,
          
           
             Where
             gentle
             breezes
             strive
             to
             bless
             the
             year
             .
          
           
             This
             makes
             the
             fertile
             Meadows
             all
             rejoyce
             ,
          
           
             And
             Philomela
             with
             her
             charming
             voice
             ;
          
           
             And
             this
             invites
             the
             wanton
             flocks
             to
             play
             ,
          
           
             As
             they
             amidst
             their
             fruitful
             Pastures
             stray
             .
          
        
         
           
             Who
             could
             be
             so
             unkind
             as
             to
             perswade
             ,
          
           
             I
             should
             for
             th'Town
             forsake
             my
             Countreyshade
             ?
          
           
             Such
             joys
             I
             'le
             ever
             love
             ,
             and
             should
             be
             glad
          
           
             At
             those
             delightful
             Rivers
             to
             be
             staid
             ,
          
           
           
             Near
             thee
             ,
             O
             Tours
             ,
             between
             the
             Cher
             and
             Loir
             ,
          
           
             Where
             we
             the
             Rural
             Miracles
             admire
          
           
             Of
             France
             .
             Thou
             native
             Soyl
             of
             Gardens
             hail
             !
          
           
             To
             the
             Surrentine
             Hills
             ,
             the
             Sabine
             Vale
             ,
          
           
             Or
             the
             Oebalian
             fields
             thou
             giv'st
             not
             place
             .
          
           
             Thee
             soft
             Ferentum
             ,
             nor
             the
             Bantine
             Chace
          
           
             Excell
             ,
             nor
             what
             Phalantus
             did
             possess
             ,
          
           
             Or
             the
             sweet
             shades
             which
             happy
             Tibur
             bless
             .
          
        
         
           
             Besides
             the
             Coast
             with
             Streams
             and
             Fountains
             grac't
             ,
          
           
             And
             on
             each
             side
             vast
             tracts
             of
             Meadows
             plac't
             ;
          
           
             The
             neighb'ring
             Hills
             all
             set
             with
             Vines
             ,
             the
             Town
             ,
          
           
             Which
             its
             rich
             merchandizes
             so
             renown
             ;
          
           
             The
             peoples
             inclinations
             ,
             whose
             soft
             clime
          
           
             Ha's
             rendred
             them
             polite
             ,
             they
             spend
             their
             time
          
           
           
             In
             silken
             works
             ;
             here
             shady
             Woods
             are
             seen
             ,
          
           
             And
             Meadows
             cover'd
             with
             eternal
             green
             :
          
           
             Gardens
             ,
             as
             if
             immortal
             ,
             ne're
             decay
             ,
          
           
             And
             fading
             flow'rs
             to
             fresher
             still
             give
             way
             .
          
        
         
           
             Such
             is
             Saint
             Germans
             ,
             which
             the
             Pow'rs
             of
             France
          
           
             Inhabit
             ,
             or
             the
             Vale
             of
             Mommorance
             ,
          
           
             Such
             fields
             are
             wash'd
             by
             th'
             
               Sein
               ;
               Medun's
            
             like
             this
             ;
          
           
             And
             such
             Saint
             Cloud
             ,
             with
             famous
             Ruel
             is
             .
          
        
         
           
             The
             Pensile
             Gardens
             of
             Semiramis
             ,
          
           
             The
             Orchard
             kept
             by
             the
             Hesperides
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             Apples
             watch'd
             by
             Dragons
             are
             be
             liev'd
             ;
          
           
             Or
             vain
             Elyzium
             of
             the
             Greeks
             receiv'd
             ;
          
           
           
             Cannot
             approach
             the
             Streams
             ,
             and
             Groves
             ,
             which
             France
          
           
             Adorn
             ,
             or
             the
             proud
             Structures
             which
             advance
          
           
             Her
             Fame
             ,
             where
             pow'rful
             Art
             with
             Nature
             strives
             ,
          
           
             And
             Rivers
             into
             large
             Canales
             derives
             .
          
        
         
           
             From
             Taurus
             front
             in
             Iune
             the
             Hyades
          
           
             Appear
             ,
             and
             lowring
             clouds
             disturb
             the
             Skies
             ;
          
           
             With
             prayers
             therefore
             you
             must
             Heaven
             appease
             ,
          
           
             And
             by
             devotion
             make
             the
             tempests
             cease
             :
          
           
             Then
             will
             the
             earth
             be
             spangled
             o're
             anew
             ,
          
           
             And
             high-topt
             Lychnis
             brings
             it self
             in
             view
             .
          
           
             Asphodel
             too
             ,
             by
             learned
             Hesiod
             priz'd
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             roots
             out
             temp'rate
             Ancestors
             suffic'd
             .
          
           
             Next
             these
             the
             greater
             Cyanys
             ,
             which
             bring
          
           
             Their
             name
             of
             old
             from
             a
             Bizantine
             King.
          
           
           
             The
             Shield-leav'd
             Cresse
             ,
             and
             Cityssus
             both
             fain'd
             ,
          
           
             In
             humane
             figures
             to
             be
             once
             contain'd
             :
          
           
             The
             first
             ,
             a
             famous
             Dardan
             Hunter
             was
             ;
          
           
             The
             last
             ,
             a
             Shepherd
             of
             the
             Argive
             race
             .
          
        
         
           
             Like
             the
             Cone-bearing
             Cypress
             now
             we
             see
          
           
             Linaria
             ,
             which
             obtain'd
             in
             Italy
          
           
             A
             better
             name
             ,
             by
             them
             call'd
             Belvedere
             ;
          
           
             Nor
             Aquilegia
             longer
             can
             defer
          
           
             To
             flow'r
             ,
             its
             leaves
             a
             Violet-purple
             stains
             ,
          
           
             With
             Anthemis
             ,
             as
             long
             as
             Taurus
             reigns
             ,
          
           
             It
             grows
             :
             The
             flow'r
             of
             Helen
             too
             ascends
             ,
          
           
             Which
             in
             it self
             both
             colours
             comprehends
             .
          
           
             That
             Helen
             ancient
             Ilium
             did
             destroy
             ;
          
           
             Her
             eyes
             ,
             and
             not
             the
             Greeks
             ,
             set
             fire
             on
             Troy.
          
           
             She
             Asia
             fill'd
             ,
             and
             Europe
             with
             alarms
             ,
          
           
             And
             her
             high
             quarrel
             put
             the
             world
             in
             arms
             .
          
           
           
             Then
             German
             Fox-glove
             ,
             with
             discolour'd
             rays
             ,
          
           
             And
             lovely
             Calamint
             it self
             displays
             :
          
           
             
               Thryallis
               ,
               Anthora
               ,
               AEthiopis
            
             ,
          
           
             With
             Scylla
             ,
             whose
             thrice
             flow'ring
             signifies
             ,
          
           
             Like
             Lentisk
             ,
             the
             three
             Seasons
             fit
             to
             plow.
          
           
             Lytrum
             ,
             obscure
             Cerynthe
             ,
             All-heal
             too
          
           
             Will
             shew
             it self
             ,
             known
             by
             its
             Tyrian
             dye
             ,
          
           
             With
             multitudes
             of
             the
             ignobler
             fry
             .
          
        
         
           
             Now
             I
             perceive
             from
             whence
             these
             Odours
             flow
             ;
          
           
             While
             on
             the
             Roses
             kinder
             Zephyrs
             blow
             .
          
           
             Out
             of
             the
             prickly
             stalk
             the
             Purple-flow'r
          
           
             Springs
             ,
             and
             commands
             the
             vulgar
             to
             adore
             .
          
           
             The
             Garden-Queen
             do's
             now
             her self
             display
             ,
          
           
             Soiling
             the
             lustre
             of
             the
             rising
             day
             .
          
           
           
             And
             Cynthia
             too
             withdraws
             her
             wearied
             sight
             ,
          
           
             Grown
             pale
             ,
             and
             vanquish'd
             by
             excess
             of
             light
             .
          
           
             She
             ,
             who
             not
             yet
             had
             spread
             her
             tender
             leaves
             ,
          
           
             Impatient
             now
             of
             her
             confinement
             ,
             cleaves
          
           
             Thrugh
             all
             impediments
             ;
             her
             form
             divine
          
           
             Speaking
             her
             justly
             of
             a
             Royal
             Line
             .
          
           
             Her
             blushing
             modesty
             would
             make
             you
             guess
             ,
          
           
             That
             she
             was
             chaste
             ,
             if
             not
             her
             Virgin-dress
             .
          
           
             Therefore
             since
             Bloud
             and
             Virtue
             so
             agree
             ,
          
           
             It
             shews
             her
             Chasteness
             ,
             and
             her
             Majesty
             .
          
        
         
           
             The
             Amazonians
             falsly
             do
             combine
          
           
             Among
             themselves
             to
             place
             this
             Heroine
             .
          
           
             Falsly
             ,
             I
             say
             ;
             for
             she
             's
             to
             Greece
             allow'd
             ,
          
           
             Where
             Sea-girt
             Corinth
             to
             her
             Scepter
             bow'd
             .
          
           
             Fame
             of
             her
             Beauty
             spreads
             through
             ev'ry
             place
             ,
          
           
             And
             Kings
             themselves
             pay
             homage
             to
             her
             Face
             .
          
           
           
             Warlike
             Halesus
             first
             of
             all
             arrives
             ,
          
           
             Then
             high
             born
             Brias
             ,
             who
             himself
             derives
             ,
          
           
             From
             seven-fold
             Nile
             ;
             next
             Ax-arm'd
             Arcas
             hies
             ,
          
           
             Cover'd
             with
             Laurels
             ,
             proud
             of
             Victories
             ;
          
           
             Which
             after
             various
             perils
             undergone
             ,
          
           
             His
             conqu'ring
             arms
             on
             Theban
             Plains
             had
             won
             .
          
           
             All
             these
             he
             prostrates
             at
             her
             Royal
             Feet
             ,
          
           
             In
             hope
             such
             Off'rings
             might
             acceptance
             meet
             .
          
        
         
           
             Proud
             of
             her
             Beauty
             ,
             she
             replies
             ,
             her
             charms
          
           
             Yield
             not
             to
             such
             mean
             Arts
             ,
             but
             manly
             Arms.
          
           
             No
             longer
             hearkens
             to
             their
             idle
             vows
             ,
          
           
             But
             in
             the
             midst
             of
             armed
             Troups
             she
             goes
          
           
             To
             Phoebus
             ,
             and
             his
             sisters
             fane
             ,
             desires
          
           
             Diana's
             aid
             against
             immodest
             fires
             .
          
           
             The
             surious
             Lovers
             now
             with
             force
             attaque
          
           
             The
             Queen
             ,
             the
             Temple-doors
             they
             open
             break
             .
          
           
           
             From
             whence
             repell'd
             ,
             their
             Mistress
             makes
             them
             feel
          
           
             The
             dire
             effects
             of
             her
             inraged
             steel
             .
          
        
         
           
             Perhaps
             her
             courage
             ,
             more
             then
             feminine
             ,
          
           
             Mingled
             with
             modest
             blushes
             made
             her
             shine
          
           
             More
             splendidly
             ;
             or
             else
             some
             fresh
             supplies
          
           
             Of
             lightning
             were
             conspicuous
             in
             her
             eyes
             .
          
           
             Something
             there
             was
             that
             had
             amaz'd
             the
             rude
          
           
             And
             duller
             Genius
             of
             the
             multitude
             :
          
           
             For
             with
             loud
             shouts
             they
             daringly
             prefer
          
           
             Rhodanthes
             name
             before
             Diana's
             :
             her
          
           
             They
             now
             adore
             ,
             and
             in
             the
             Goddess
             stead
             ,
          
           
             Cry
             out
             Rhodanthe
             shall
             be
             deified
          
           
             When
             learn'd
             Apollo
             from
             the
             Azure
             Sky
          
           
             Beheld
             Rhodanthes
             great
             impiety
             ,
          
           
             With
             vengefull
             flames
             ,
             that
             did
             obliquely
             glide
             ,
          
           
             He
             makes
             her
             curse
             her
             sacrilegious
             pride
             .
          
           
           
             Close
             to
             the
             Altar
             now
             her
             feet
             are
             joyn'd
             ;
          
           
             Which
             spreading
             roots
             do
             yet
             more
             firmly
             bind
             .
          
           
             Her
             arms
             are
             boughs
             ;
             and
             though
             she
             senseless
             grows
             ,
          
           
             Yet
             great
             and
             comely
             in
             her
             change
             she
             shows
             .
          
           
             She
             had
             not
             less
             perfection
             ,
             then
             before
             ;
          
           
             And
             fair
             Rhodanthe
             is
             as
             fair
             a
             flow'r
             :
          
           
             Happy
             ,
             if
             she
             had
             never
             merited
          
           
             Those
             honours
             which
             to
             her
             destruction
             led
             .
          
        
         
           
             Apollo's
             vengeance
             stops
             not
             coldly
             here
             ;
          
           
             The
             irreligious
             vulgar
             now
             appear
          
           
             Transform'd
             to
             thorns
             ;
             which
             in
             that
             shape
             contend
          
           
             With
             dreadful
             points
             Rhodanthe
             to
             defend
             .
          
           
             Into
             a
             Butter-fly
             Halesus
             goes
             ;
          
           
             Arcas
             t'
             a
             Drone
             ;
             while
             valiant
             Brias
             grows
          
           
           
             A
             Caterpiller
             ;
             who
             with
             one
             consent
          
           
             Their
             former
             Mistress
             in
             new
             shapes
             frequent
             .
          
        
         
           
             And
             though
             this
             flow'r
             be
             justly
             plac't
             above
          
           
             All
             others
             ,
             yet
             it
             do's
             not
             lasting
             prove
             .
          
           
             Thus
             the
             best
             things
             do
             soonest
             bend
             to
             Fate
             ;
          
           
             And
             nothing
             can
             be
             durable
             that
             's
             great
             .
          
        
         
           
             I
             cannot
             all
             the
             Species
             rehearse
          
           
             Of
             Roses
             ,
             in
             the
             narrow
             bounds
             of
             Verse
             .
          
           
             Some
             curl'd
             ,
             some
             wav'd
             about
             the
             top
             are
             found
             ,
          
           
             And
             others
             with
             a
             thousand
             leaves
             are
             crown'd
             ;
          
           
             Through
             which
             the
             flaming
             colours
             do
             appear
             .
          
           
             Others
             are
             single
             ,
             not
             t'
             insist
             on
             here
          
           
             Either
             the
             Damask
             ,
             or
             Numidian
             Rose
             ,
          
           
             Or
             Cistus
             ,
             which
             in
             Lusitania
             grows
             .
          
           
           
             Roses
             unarm'd
             ,
             if
             you
             the
             earth
             prepare
             ,
          
           
             May
             be
             produc't
             ;
             but
             they
             in
             danger
             are
             ;
          
           
             Because
             unguarded
             ;
             for
             what
             excellence
          
           
             Can
             be
             secure
             on
             earth
             without
             defence
             ?
          
           
             Though
             Saliunca
             to
             the
             Roses
             yields
             ,
          
           
             Yet
             it
             will
             adde
             some
             beauty
             to
             our
             fields
             .
          
        
         
           
             These
             flow'rs
             are
             quickly
             subject
             to
             decay
             ,
          
           
             And
             when
             Orion
             shines
             ,
             they
             fade
             away
             .
          
           
             In
             Pots
             the
             candid
             Hyacinths
             remain
          
           
             Intire
             ,
             which
             from
             their
             tub'rous
             roots
             obtain
          
           
             Another
             name
             ;
             our
             Merchants
             those
             of
             late
          
           
             From
             the
             far
             distant
             Indies
             did
             translate
             :
          
           
             Their
             station
             first
             in
             Italy
             they
             had
             ;
          
           
             And
             then
             to
             Rome
             ,
             and
             Latium
             were
             convai'd
             .
          
           
             From
             whence
             all
             Europe
             ha's
             been
             furnish'd
             ,
             where
          
           
             In
             ev'ry
             Garden
             now
             they
             domineer
             .
          
           
           
             Not
             onely
             boasting
             of
             the
             native
             Snow
             ,
          
           
             Which
             decks
             their
             front
             ,
             but
             of
             their
             Odours
             too
             .
          
        
         
           
             If
             ever
             any
             flow'rs
             you
             admire
             ,
          
           
             These
             above
             all
             will
             greatest
             care
             require
             .
          
           
             In
             earthen
             Vasa's
             when
             they
             are
             secure
             ,
          
           
             The
             shocks
             of
             wind
             and
             rain
             they
             best
             endure
             .
          
           
             And
             lest
             the
             parching
             rayes
             of
             Sirius
             prove
          
           
             Destructive
             ,
             you
             must
             soon
             your
             flow'r
             remove
          
           
             Into
             your
             house
             ;
             nor
             think
             it
             labour
             lost
             ,
          
           
             That
             cannot
             be
             unworthy
             of
             your
             cost
             ;
          
           
             Which
             ,
             to
             adorn
             ,
             and
             to
             augment
             our
             store
             ,
          
           
             By
             Sea
             we
             borrow
             from
             the
             farthest
             shore
             .
          
        
         
           
             Nor
             Cymbalum
             will
             long
             be
             wanting
             found
          
           
             With
             Purple
             Flow'rs
             inverted
             to
             the
             ground
             .
          
           
           
             The
             onely
             nat'ral
             difference
             we
             see
          
           
             Of
             them
             ,
             and
             Lillies
             since
             their
             smells
             agree
             .
          
           
             Chrysanthes
             next
             with
             radiant
             threads
             appears
             ,
          
           
             Its
             leaf
             a
             deep
             Sidonlan
             tincture
             bears
             .
          
           
             And
             though
             Amaracus
             at
             first
             may
             seem
          
           
             Unworthy
             of
             a
             place
             in
             your
             esteem
             ,
          
           
             Contemn
             it
             not
             ;
             for
             it
             will
             recompence
          
           
             The
             want
             of
             form
             ,
             in
             pleasing
             th'
             other
             sence
             .
          
           
             Venus
             with
             fragrant
             smell
             did
             heretofore
          
           
             Indue
             this
             Plant
             hard
             by
             deep
             Simois
             shore
             .
          
        
         
           
             Yarrow
             will
             now
             a
             thousand
             leaves
             expose
             ,
          
           
             And
             Summer
             Iris
             various
             colours
             shows
             .
          
           
             With
             ,
             Malva
             ,
             Linum
             ,
             yellow
             Melilot
             ,
          
           
             And
             red
             Ononis
             too
             ;
             whose
             binding
             root
          
           
             Do's
             oft
             the
             tardy
             Husbandman
             molest
             ,
          
           
             And
             stops
             the
             progress
             of
             his
             lab'ring
             beast
             :
          
        
         
           
           
             The
             Nymphs
             may
             now
             frequent
             the
             verdant
             Meads
             ,
          
           
             And
             make
             them
             pleited
             Chaplets
             for
             their
             heads
             :
          
           
             Their
             hands
             ,
             and
             Ozier
             baskets
             may
             be
             fill'd
          
           
             With
             flow'rs
             ,
             which
             spread
             themselves
             o're
             ev'ry
             field
             .
          
        
         
           
             But
             let
             all
             Nymphs
             that
             tragick
             use
             avoid
             ,
          
           
             By
             which
             th'
             AEgyptian
             Queen
             her self
             destroy'd
             .
          
           
             When
             vanquish'd
             Antony
             from
             Actium
             ran
             ,
          
           
             Leaving
             Augustus
             th'
             Empire
             of
             the
             Main
             ;
          
           
             She
             fearing
             to
             adorn
             his
             victory
             ,
          
           
             Rather
             chose
             death
             ,
             then
             living
             in
             famy
             .
          
           
             But
             lest
             her
             resolutions
             should
             be
             known
             ,
          
           
             Beneath
             the
             flow'rs
             the
             pois'nous
             Asps
             were
             thrown
             .
          
           
           
             Thus
             she
             expir'd
             in
             death
             with
             pleasure
             blest
             ,
          
           
             Applying
             fatal
             Serpents
             to
             her
             breast
             .
          
        
         
           
             Flowers
             in
             many
             things
             convenient
             are
             ;
          
           
             Our
             Tables
             ,
             and
             our
             Cupboards
             we
             prepare
          
           
             With
             them
             ;
             and
             better
             to
             disfuse
             their
             scent
             ,
          
           
             We
             place
             them
             in
             our
             Rooms
             for
             ornament
             .
          
           
             By
             others
             into
             Garlands
             they
             are
             wrought
             ;
          
           
             And
             so
             for
             off
             rings
             to
             the
             Altars
             brought
             .
          
           
             Sometimes
             to
             Princes
             Bankets
             they
             ascend
             ,
          
           
             And
             to
             their
             Tables
             fragrant
             Odours
             lend
             ;
          
           
             As
             oft
             they
             serve
             to
             grace
             a
             temp'rate
             Mess
             ,
          
           
             Where
             the
             content
             is
             more
             ,
             the
             plenty
             less
             .
          
        
         
           
             Nor
             want
             there
             those
             ,
             who
             with
             sublime
             skill
             ,
          
           
             In
             hollow
             Limbecks
             flowers
             can
             distill
             .
          
           
             Now
             with
             a
             slow
             ,
             now
             with
             a
             quicker
             fire
          
           
             They
             work
             ,
             which
             makes
             the
             vapor
             strait
             aspire
          
           
           
             To
             the
             cool
             brass
             ,
             whence
             heated
             once
             anew
             ,
          
           
             It
             gently
             trickles
             into
             Pearly
             dew
             .
          
           
             The
             Spirit
             thus
             of
             flowers
             is
             convey'd
          
           
             To
             Water
             ,
             and
             by
             trial
             stronger
             made
             .
          
        
         
           
             Unguents
             from
             them
             are
             drawn
             ,
             such
             as
             of
             old
          
           
             To
             rub
             the
             hair
             
               Capuan
               Seplasia
            
             sold
             ;
          
           
             Capua
             ,
             whose
             soft
             delights
             ,
             and
             pleasing
             charms
          
           
             Prov'd
             worse
             then
             Cannae
             to
             the
             Punick
             arms
             .
          
           
             Where
             Hannibal
             that
             enemy
             to
             peace
             ,
          
           
             Indulg'd
             himself
             to
             luxury
             and
             ease
             ,
          
        
         
           
             Painting
             it self
             ,
             from
             flow'rs
             we
             derive
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             colours
             did
             the
             first
             examples
             give
             .
          
           
             By
             
               Glycera
               Pausiades
            
             thus
             taught
             ,
          
           
             Painted
             the
             diff'rent
             flowers
             which
             she
             brought
          
           
             From
             them
             ,
             &
             by
             the
             care
             of
             those
             that
             weave
             ,
          
           
             Such
             great
             improvements
             figur'd
             Silks
             receive
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             And
             from
             that
             Nectar
             which
             the
             flow'rs
             contain
             ,
          
           
             Industrious
             Bees
             their
             Honey
             too
             obtain
             ,
          
        
         
           
             I
             should
             too
             tedious
             be
             ,
             if
             I
             should
             sing
          
           
             The
             mighty
             aids
             which
             herbs
             and
             flowers
             bring
          
           
             To
             the
             Diseases
             men
             are
             subject
             to
             :
          
           
             For
             these
             the
             Gods
             with
             virtue
             did
             indue
             .
          
        
         
           
             Near
             Paris
             ,
             where
             the
             rapid
             Sein
             do's
             glide
             ,
          
           
             In
             a
             
               sub
               urban
               Villa
            
             did
             reside
          
           
             A
             single
             man
             ;
             his
             Garden
             was
             his
             Wife
             ;
          
           
             And
             his
             delight
             a
             solitary
             life
             .
          
           
             Few
             Acres
             were
             the
             limits
             of
             his
             land
             ;
          
           
             No
             costly
             Tapestry
             his
             walls
             prophan'd
             :
          
           
             And
             yet
             he
             was
             as
             satisfi'd
             as
             those
             ,
          
           
             On
             whom
             too
             partial
             fortune
             oft
             bestows
          
           
           
             Her
             greatest
             favours
             ,
             since'tis
             not
             excess
             ,
          
           
             But
             moderation
             causes
             happiness
             ,
          
           
             From
             Regions
             far
             remote
             he
             flowers
             brought
             ,
          
           
             And
             wholesome
             herbs
             on
             distant
             Mountains
             sought
             .
          
           
             Into
             his
             Garden
             these
             he
             did
             translate
             ,
          
           
             And
             to
             his
             friends
             their
             qualities
             relate
             .
          
        
         
           
             He
             could
             not
             long
             enjoy
             his
             solitude
             ,
          
           
             Fame
             soon
             attracts
             the
             neighb'ring
             multitude
             ;
          
           
             Who
             importune
             him
             that
             he
             would
             impart
          
           
             His
             skill
             ,
             and
             not
             conceal
             his
             pow'rful
             art
             .
          
           
             Those
             who
             of
             shortness
             in
             their
             breath
             complain'd
             ,
          
           
             And
             in
             whose
             bowels
             scorching
             Feavers
             reign'd
             ;
          
           
             Some
             for
             ill
             humors
             ,
             joynts
             ne're
             standing
             still
             ,
          
           
             And
             beating
             at
             the
             heart
             ,
             implor'd
             his
             skill
             .
          
           
           
             Those
             ,
             whom
             Physicians
             long
             had
             given
             o're
             ,
          
           
             He
             by
             reviving
             Med'cines
             did
             restore
             .
          
           
             But
             he
             that
             could
             renew
             lost
             health
             agen
             ,
          
           
             Deserves
             the
             praises
             of
             a
             better
             Pen.
             
          
        
         
           
             
               Peruvian
               Granadil
            
             in
             Summer
             blows
             ,
          
           
             Which
             near
             the
             Amazonian
             River
             grows
             .
          
           
             Nature
             her self
             this
             flowers
             leaves
             divides
          
           
             Into
             three
             parts
             ,
             and
             waves
             them
             on
             the
             sides
             .
          
           
             From
             a
             tall
             stalk
             sharp
             prickles
             it
             do's
             send
             ,
          
           
             Like
             those
             that
             do
             the
             Holy
             Thorn
             defend
             :
          
           
             With
             triple-pointed
             leaves
             resembling
             those
          
           
             Accursed
             Nails
             ,
             which
             fix'd
             Christ
             to
             the
             Cross.
             
          
        
         
           
             Next
             painted
             
               Meleagris
               ,
               Echium
            
             shew
          
           
             Themselves
             with
             
               Rumex
               ,
               Adianium
            
             too
             ,
          
           
           
             And
             Hesperis
             ;
             to
             which
             the
             influence
          
           
             Of
             Phaebus
             various
             colours
             dispence
             .
          
        
         
           
             Lovely
             Carnations
             then
             their
             flow'rs
             dilate
             ;
          
           
             The
             worth
             of
             them
             is
             ,
             as
             their
             beauty
             ,
             great
             .
          
           
             Their
             Smell
             is
             excellent
             ;
             a
             Cod
             below
          
           
             Restrains
             the
             swelling
             leaves
             ,
             which
             curled
             grow
          
           
             Divided
             too
             ;
             this
             flow'r
             exacts
             our
             care
             :
          
           
             For
             if
             th'
             extreams
             of
             heat
             or
             cold
             the
             air
          
           
             Molest
             too
             much
             ,
             they
             're
             blasted
             in
             their
             birth
             ,
          
           
             Unable
             to
             aspire
             above
             the
             earth
             .
          
           
             Morning
             and
             evening
             therefore
             you
             must
             chuse
          
           
             To
             water
             them
             ,
             or
             else
             their
             charms
             they
             lose
             .
          
        
         
           
             Hemerocallis
             next
             we
             see
             ,
             whose
             name
          
           
             Deservedly
             from
             its
             short
             duration
             came
             .
          
           
             Its
             flowers
             always
             do
             obliquely
             bend
             ,
          
           
             And
             into
             purple
             leaves
             themselves
             extend
             .
          
           
           
             With
             numbers
             of
             them
             all
             your
             Garden
             store
             ,
          
           
             While
             they
             are
             fresh
             you
             will
             admire
             them
             more
             .
          
        
         
           
             If
             pois'nous
             Orobanche
             should
             by
             chance
             ,
          
           
             Among
             the
             rest
             ,
             its
             noxious
             head
             advance
             ;
          
           
             Let
             not
             your
             Cattle
             eat
             it
             ,
             lest
             they
             find
          
           
             Too
             late
             the
             dire
             effects
             it
             leaves
             behind
             .
          
           
             Cows
             set
             on
             fire
             by
             its
             pernicious
             taste
             ,
          
           
             Without
             delay
             ,
             straight
             to
             ingender
             haste
             .
          
           
             Whole
             flocks
             besides
             ,
             as
             if
             they
             were
             untam'd
             ,
          
           
             Stray
             through
             the
             Woods
             with
             lustful
             rage
             inflam'd
             .
          
        
         
           
             High
             Matricaria
             on
             long
             branches
             shows
          
           
             Her
             candid
             flow'rs
             :
             about
             them
             Thlaspis
             grows
             .
          
           
             Thlaspis
             was
             once
             a
             Cretan
             youth
             ;
             he
             lov'd
          
           
             This
             Nymph
             ;
             &
             their
             amours
             had
             happy
             prov'd
          
           
           
             If
             fate
             had
             crown'd
             their
             innocent
             delights
             ,
          
           
             With
             less
             unlucky
             Hymeneal
             Rites
             .
          
        
         
           
             Chamaedris
             near
             cold
             Springs
             new
             vigour
             takes
             ;
          
           
             Nature
             its
             leaves
             like
             saws
             indented
             makes
             .
          
           
             Two
             sorts
             of
             the
             wild
             Orchis
             now
             appear
             ;
          
           
             And
             on
             their
             leaves
             two
             diff'rent
             colours
             bear
             .
          
           
             Within
             a
             while
             your
             Garden
             waxes
             white
             ,
          
           
             And
             snowy
             flowers
             will
             surprize
             your
             sight
             .
          
           
             For
             if
             the
             Summer
             do's
             not
             late
             arrive
             ,
          
           
             On
             verdant
             stalks
             the
             Lillies
             will
             revive
             .
          
        
         
           
             France
             more
             then
             any
             Nation
             has
             preferr'd
          
           
             This
             flow'r
             ,
             some
             say
             ,
             from
             Phrygla
             't
             was
             transferr'd
          
           
             By
             Francus
             ,
             sprung
             from
             Hector
             ;
             full
             o'
             th'
             fame
          
           
             Of
             his
             great
             Aucestours
             ;
             that
             his
             own
             name
          
           
           
             Might
             be
             extoll'd
             ,
             remoter
             Climes
             he
             sought
             ,
          
           
             And
             settling
             here
             to
             us
             our
             Lillies
             brought
             .
          
           
             But
             our
             Forefathers
             ,
             by
             Tradition
             ,
             prove
          
           
             They
             fell
             ,
             like
             the
             Ancile
             ,
             from
             above
             .
          
           
             Saint
             Clodovaeus
             ,
             who
             did
             first
             advance
          
           
             The
             Doctrine
             ,
             and
             the
             Faith
             of
             Christ
             in
             France
             ,
          
           
             With
             his
             pure
             hands
             receiv'd
             the
             heav'nly
             gift
          
           
             And
             to
             the
             care
             of
             his
             Successors
             left
             ;
          
           
             That
             it
             should
             be
             preserv'd
             from
             age
             to
             age
          
           
             His
             Kingdoms
             Ensign
             ,
             and
             praedestin'd
             Badge
             .
          
           
             These
             Arms
             shall
             flourish
             ,
             when
             propitious
             fate
          
           
             In
             lasting
             peace
             shall
             on
             great
             Lewis
             wait
             .
          
           
             When
             he
             th'
             affrighted
             world
             shall
             have
             compos'd
             ,
          
           
             And
             all
             the
             wounds
             of
             war
             and
             tumult
             clos'd
             ;
          
           
             When
             fraud
             and
             murder
             he
             ha's
             put
             to
             flight
             ,
          
           
             And
             with
             firm
             Leagues
             he
             shall
             mankind
             unite
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             Now
             for
             past
             loves
             unhappy
             Clytie
             grieves
             ,
          
           
             And
             paleness
             from
             the
             parching
             Sun
             receives
             .
          
           
             Sh'
             aspires
             o're
             other
             flow'rs
             ,
             in
             hopes
             ,
             by
             chance
          
           
             Her
             former
             lover
             might
             vouchsafe
             a
             glance
             .
          
        
         
           
             Crosus
             ,
             and
             Smilax
             too
             in
             Iune
             appear
             ,
          
           
             Which
             heretofore
             did
             humane
             bodies
             wear
             .
          
           
             Their
             tufted
             heads
             when
             Poppies
             have
             expos'd
             ,
          
           
             And
             th'
             earth
             for
             new
             productions
             is
             dispos'd
             ;
          
           
             To
             make
             her
             riches
             in
             more
             splendour
             shine
             ,
          
           
             In
             the
             same
             flower
             diff'rent
             colours
             joyn
             .
          
           
             To
             
               Eleusinian
               Ceres
            
             Poppies
             owe
          
           
             Their
             rise
             ;
             with
             purple
             leaves
             some
             higher
             grow
             :
          
           
             But
             the
             white
             kind
             a
             dye
             ,
             like
             silver
             ,
             yields
             ,
          
           
             Shewing
             the
             modest
             treasures
             of
             the
             fields
             .
          
           
           
             The
             Seeds
             to
             Med'c'nal
             uses
             are
             applied
             ,
          
           
             And
             often
             in
             Diseases
             have
             been
             tried
             .
          
           
             Sometimes
             short-winded
             Coughs
             they
             moderate
             ,
          
           
             And
             welcome
             sleep
             in
             sickly
             men
             create
             .
          
        
         
           
             In
             
               Greece
               Eryngus
            
             is
             deserv'dly
             sought
             ;
          
           
             Born
             in
             a
             Womans
             Breast
             ,
             while
             green
             ,
             't
             is
             thought
          
           
             An
             antidote
             against
             all
             lustful
             fires
             ;
          
           
             And
             to
             allay
             a
             Husband
             's
             wild
             desires
             .
          
           
             Phaon
             did
             thus
             his
             Sappho's
             love
             obtain
             ,
          
           
             If
             the
             records
             of
             time
             may
             credit
             gain
             .
          
        
         
           
             But
             while
             the
             Dog-star
             rages
             in
             the
             Sky
             ,
          
           
             And
             cruel
             Clouds
             their
             wonted
             show'rs
             deny
             ;
          
           
             When
             burning
             Phoebus
             lengthens
             out
             the
             days
             ,
          
           
             Scatt'ring
             the
             dew
             by
             his
             refulgent
             rays
             ;
          
           
           
             Lest
             all
             your
             Plants
             should
             at
             the
             root
             decay
             ,
          
           
             And
             wanting
             moisture
             quickly
             fade
             away
             ;
          
           
             From
             neighb'ring
             Fountains
             flow
             your
             Garden
             o're
             ,
          
           
             Such
             vital
             drops
             will
             life
             again
             restore
             .
          
           
             For
             now
             Aurora
             no
             refreshment
             gives
             ,
          
           
             No
             humid
             dew
             the
             dying
             grass
             relieves
             .
          
        
         
           
             Among
             the
             flow'rs
             ,
             which
             late
             i'
             th'
             year
             arrive
             ,
          
           
             Immortal
             Amaranthus
             will
             survive
             .
          
           
             For
             at
             that
             time
             an
             unknown
             multitude
          
           
             Of
             vulgar
             flowers
             will
             themselves
             extrude
             .
          
           
             Conyza
             ,
             Horminum
             ,
             Hedysarum
             ,
          
           
             Angelica
             ,
             small
             Henbane
             ,
             Apium
             ,
          
           
             Marchmallows
             ,
             woad
             ,
             Armeria
             ,
             Clematis
             ,
          
           
             With
             trembling
             
               Coriander
               ,
               Barberis
            
             ,
          
           
             
               Both
               the
            
             Abrotonums
             ,
             Myrrhe
             ,
             Centory
             ,
          
           
             Slender
             Melissa
             ,
             Sium
             ,
             Cicory
             ,
          
           
           
             Buphthalmum
             ,
             Stoechas
             ,
             Hyosedamus
             ,
          
           
             And
             spotted
             Calendule
             their
             flow'rs
             produce
             .
          
           
             Mint
             ,
             and
             Nigella
             too
             ;
             with
             these
             we
             see
          
           
             The
             Summer
             thus
             and
             Autumn
             still
             agree
          
           
             To
             fructifie
             ,
             and
             thus
             the
             year
             goes
             round
             ,
          
           
             While
             ev'ry
             season
             is
             with
             flowers
             crown'd
             .
          
        
         
           
             The
             golden
             Attick
             Star
             in
             Meadows
             reigns
             ,
          
           
             So
             term'd
             by
             Greece
             ;
             but
             by
             the
             Latine
             Swains
             ,
          
           
             Amellus
             :
             In
             wet
             Vales
             ,
             near
             Fountain
             sides
             ,
          
           
             It
             grows
             ,
             or
             where
             some
             crook'd
             Maeander
             glides
             .
          
           
             In
             making
             nooses
             it
             is
             useful
             found
             ,
          
           
             When
             the
             ripe
             Vintage
             hangs
             upon
             the
             ground
             .
          
        
         
           
             Purple
             Narcissus
             of
             Iapan
             now
             flow'rs
             ,
          
           
             Its
             leaves
             so
             shine
             ,
             as
             if
             with
             golden
             showers
          
           
           
             It
             had
             been
             wet
             ;
             which
             makes
             it
             far
             out-vy
          
           
             The
             lustre
             of
             Phoenician
             Tapestry
             .
          
           
             Therefore
             t'
             augment
             the
             grace
             of
             France
             ,
             't
             is
             fit
          
           
             This
             flow'r
             into
             our
             Gardens
             we
             admit
             .
          
           
             'T
             is
             true
             ,
             it
             hardly
             answers
             our
             desires
          
           
             At
             first
             ,
             but
             longer
             culture
             still
             requires
             .
          
           
             Yet
             let
             not
             this
             occasion
             our
             despair
             ,
          
           
             When
             once
             it
             blows
             ,
             't
             will
             recompence
             our
             care
             .
          
        
         
           
             The
             Box
             about
             the
             borders
             ,
             ev'ry
             year
             ,
          
           
             About
             the
             Spring
             ,
             or
             Autumn
             always
             shear
             .
          
           
             It
             's
             best
             to
             let
             the
             Boughs
             be
             mollifi'd
          
           
             By
             rain
             ,
             which
             makes
             them
             easier
             to
             divide
             .
          
        
         
           
             But
             you
             must
             know
             ,
             that
             flowers
             are
             not
             all
          
           
             Deduc'd
             at
             first
             from
             one
             original
             :
          
           
           
             For
             some
             alone
             from
             tub'rous
             roots
             proceed
             ,
          
           
             From
             Bulbous
             some
             ,
             and
             others
             rise
             from
             seed
             .
          
        
         
           
             The
             Beds
             we
             in
             October
             should
             disclose
             ,
          
           
             And
             on
             large
             floors
             the
             Bulbous
             roots
             expose
          
           
             To
             th'
             air
             ,
             that
             the
             Suns
             rays
             may
             then
             attract
          
           
             That
             moisture
             which
             in
             Summer
             they
             contract
             ,
          
           
             By
             lying
             under
             ground
             ;
             thus
             purg'd
             and
             clean
             ,
          
           
             After
             some
             time
             they
             may
             be
             set
             agen
             .
          
           
             And
             better
             to
             resist
             the
             Winters
             cold
             ,
          
           
             They
             must
             be
             deeply
             buried
             in
             their
             mold
             .
          
        
         
           
             But
             with
             less
             care
             we
             set
             the
             tub'rous
             root
             ,
          
           
             That
             of
             its
             own
             accord
             will
             downward
             shoot
             .
          
           
             While
             others
             if
             not
             deeply
             plac'd
             are
             lost
             ,
          
           
             As
             well
             by
             drowth
             ,
             as
             by
             the
             piercing
             frost
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             Perhaps
             your
             stupid
             lab'rers
             may
             not
             know
          
           
             The
             Seasons
             that
             convenient
             are
             to
             Sow
             .
          
           
             Therefore
             you
             must
             observe
             ,
             if
             Scorpio
             meet
          
           
             Erigone
             ,
             and
             move
             his
             lazie
             feet
             .
          
           
             When
             the
             hoarse
             Crane
             cuts
             th'
             air
             with
             tardy
             wing
             ,
          
           
             And
             makes
             the
             Clouds
             with
             horrid
             clangor
             ring
             .
          
           
             Then
             's
             the
             best
             time
             of
             all
             to
             plant
             your
             flow'rs
             ,
          
           
             If
             humid
             Autumn
             but
             with
             mod'rate
             show'rs
          
           
             Some
             days
             before
             refresh
             the
             parched
             face
          
           
             Of
             th'
             earth
             ,
             which
             in
             its
             bosome
             will
             embrace
          
           
             The
             Bulbous
             roots
             ,
             and
             kindly
             warmth
             infuse
             ,
          
           
             Supplying
             ev'ry
             branch
             with
             quick'ning
             juyce
             .
          
        
         
           
             But
             lest
             the
             rain
             should
             stagnate
             ,
             and
             be
             found
          
           
             By
             its
             unequal
             wetting
             of
             the
             ground
             .
          
           
           
             Hurtful
             to
             th'
             roots
             ,
             by
             swelling
             banks
             you
             may
          
           
             All
             the
             superfluous
             water
             drain
             away
             .
          
           
             Our
             lab'rers
             thus
             the
             Royal
             Gard'ner
             taught
             ;
          
           
             From
             him
             ,
             this
             way
             of
             planting
             flow'rs
             they
             brought
             .
          
           
             In
             all
             that
             could
             improve
             ,
             or
             grace
             the
             field
             ,
          
           
             In
             all
             the
             arts
             of
             Culture
             he
             excell'd
             .
          
        
         
           
             By
             the
             Moons
             face
             you
             should
             the
             Seasons
             know
             ,
          
           
             O're
             tempests
             she
             ,
             the
             air
             ,
             and
             earth
             below
          
           
             An
             influence
             ha's
             ;
             if
             she
             her
             Orb
             displays
             ,
          
           
             Piercing
             the
             opacous
             Clouds
             with
             silver
             rays
             .
          
           
             When
             with
             soft
             breezes
             she
             inspires
             the
             air
             ,
          
           
             And
             makes
             the
             winds
             their
             wonted
             rage
             forbear
             .
          
           
             Till
             it
             be
             Full
             Moon
             ,
             from
             her
             first
             increase
             ,
          
           
             The
             Season's
             good
             ;
             but
             if
             she
             once
             decrease
             ,
          
           
           
             Stir
             not
             the
             earth
             ,
             nor
             let
             the
             Husbandman
          
           
             Sow
             any
             seed
             ;
             when
             Heav'n
             forbids
             ,
             't
             is
             vain
             .
          
           
             You
             must
             obey
             ,
             when
             th'
             heav'nly
             Signs
             invite
             ;
          
           
             Have
             the
             Parrhasian
             Stars
             still
             in
             your
             sight
             .
          
           
             Which
             less
             then
             any
             do
             their
             lustre
             hide
             ;
          
           
             And
             best
             of
             all
             the
             erring
             Plowman
             guide
             .
          
        
         
           
             Some
             in
             preparing
             of
             their
             seed
             excell
             ,
          
           
             Making
             their
             flow'rs
             t'
             a
             larger
             compass
             swell
          
           
             Thus
             narrow
             bolls
             with
             curled
             leaves
             they
             fill
             ,
          
           
             Helping
             defective
             nature
             by
             their
             skill
             .
          
           
             Others
             are
             able
             by
             their
             pow
             rful
             art
             ,
          
           
             New
             odours
             ,
             and
             new
             colours
             to
             impart
             ;
          
           
             To
             change
             their
             figures
             ,
             to
             retard
             their
             birth
             ,
          
           
             Or
             make
             them
             sooner
             cleave
             their
             Mother
             Earth
             .
          
           
             These
             pleasures
             are
             with
             small
             expence
             and
             ease
          
           
             Obtain'd
             ,
             if
             such
             delights
             your
             fancy
             please
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             Spite
             of
             hot
             
               Sirius
               Tanacetum
            
             lives
             ,
          
           
             And
             ,
             while
             he
             burns
             the
             fields
             ,
             in
             Africk
             thrives
             ,
          
           
             It
             s
             lovely
             colours
             ,
             and
             thick
             foliage
          
           
             Will
             allo
             flourish
             through
             the
             Winters
             rage
             .
          
           
             This
             flow'r
             great
             
               Austrian
               Charls
            
             did
             here
             to
             fore
          
           
             Besieging
             Tunis
             ,
             from
             the
             Punick
             shore
          
           
             Transmit
             to
             Spain
             .
             When
             frost
             first
             binds
             the
             ground
             ,
          
           
             And
             sharp
             December
             spreads
             its
             ice
             aground
          
           
             I'
             th'
             Scythian
             Clime
             ,
             in
             the
             Sarmatian
             fields
             ,
          
           
             Distracting
             Hellebore
             black
             flowers
             yields
             .
          
           
             And
             yellow
             Aconites
             on
             th'
             Alps
             appear
             ,
          
           
             Others
             at
             other
             seasons
             of
             the
             year
             .
          
        
         
           
             Now
             
               Persian
               Cyclamine
            
             ,
             and
             Lawrel
             blows
             ,
          
           
             Which
             on
             the
             bank
             of
             winding
             Mosa
             grows
             .
          
           
           
             Broad-leav'd
             Merascus
             ,
             and
             green
             Sonchus
             live
             ,
          
           
             With
             Crocus
             ,
             which
             from
             Iura
             we
             derive
             .
          
           
             The
             late
             Narcissus
             in
             these
             Months
             we
             find
             ,
          
           
             And
             Winter
             Hyacinths
             ;
             but
             from
             the
             wind
             ,
          
           
             And
             killing
             frost
             ,
             to
             save
             your
             flowers
             ,
             draw
          
           
             Over
             your
             beds
             a
             covering
             of
             warm
             straw
             .
          
           
             Thus
             they
             avoid
             the
             Winters
             violence
             ,
          
           
             Till
             the
             kind
             Spring
             renews
             its
             insluence
             .
          
        
         
           
             What
             angry
             Deity
             did
             first
             expose
          
           
             To
             the
             rough
             tempests
             ,
             and
             more
             rigid
             snows
             ,
          
           
             The
             soft
             Antmony
             ,
             whose
             comely
             grace
          
           
             A
             gentler
             season
             ,
             and
             a
             better
             place
          
           
             Deserves●
             For
             when
             with
             native
             purple
             bright
          
           
             It
             shews
             its
             leaves
             to
             the
             propitious
             light
             ,
          
           
             With
             diff'rent
             colours
             strip't
             ,
             and
             curled
             flames
          
           
             Encompast
             ,
             it
             out
             love
             and
             wonder
             claims
             .
          
           
           
             There
             is
             not
             any
             other
             that
             out-vies
          
           
             This
             flowers
             curled
             leaves
             ,
             or
             num'rous
             dyes
             ;
          
           
             Nor
             the
             Sidonian
             art
             could
             e're
             compose
          
           
             So
             sweet
             a
             blush
             ,
             as
             this
             by
             nature
             shows
             .
          
        
         
           
             Flora
             inrag'd
             ,
             because
             she
             was
             so
             fair
             ,
          
           
             Banish't
             this
             Nymph
             into
             the
             open
             air
             ;
          
           
             She
             was
             the
             boast
             and
             ornament
             of
             Greece
             ,
          
           
             But
             beauty
             seldom
             meets
             with
             happiness
             .
          
           
             So
             't
             prov'd
             to
             her
             ;
             for
             whilst
             the
             careless
             Maicl
          
           
             To
             take
             the
             air
             ,
             about
             the
             fresh
             fields
             stray'd
             :
          
           
             Straight
             jealous
             thoughts
             the
             angry
             Goddess
             move
             ;
          
           
             Angry
             her
             Husband
             Zephyrus
             should
             love
          
           
             Ought
             but
             her self
             ;
             th'
             effects
             of
             her
             disdain
          
           
             On
             Anemona
             light
             ;
             her
             form
             in
             vain
          
           
             Adorns
             her
             now
             ,
             to
             that
             she
             ow'd
             her
             fate
             :
          
           
             Less
             beauty
             might
             have
             made
             her
             fortunate
             .
          
           
           
             Thus
             she
             who
             once
             among
             the
             Nymphs
             exceld
             ,
          
           
             Transform'd
             is
             now
             the
             best
             of
             flowers
             held
             .
          
        
         
           
             While
             Venus
             for
             her
             lov'd
             Adonis
             griev'd
             ,
          
           
             After
             he
             had
             his
             mortal
             wound
             receiv'd
             ;
          
           
             Her
             onely
             comfort
             in
             this
             flow'r
             remain'd
             ;
          
           
             For
             from
             his
             streaming
             bloud
             ,
             when
             she
             had
             drain'd
          
           
             All
             that
             was
             humane
             ,
             and
             had
             sprinkled
             o're
          
           
             The
             corps
             with
             sacred
             juyce
             ;
             from
             the
             thick
             gore
          
           
             Immediately
             a
             purple
             flow'r
             arose
             ,
          
           
             Which
             did
             a
             little
             recompence
             her
             loss
             .
          
        
         
           
             This
             flowers
             form
             and
             colours
             so
             invite
             ,
          
           
             That
             some
             whole
             cases
             full
             of
             turf
             delight
          
           
             To
             sow
             with
             seed
             ;
             which
             when
             they
             first
             arise
             ,
          
           
             With
             colours
             pleasingly
             confus'd
             surprise
             .
          
           
           
             Victorious
             Gast●
             so
             this
             flower
             did
             grace
             ,
          
           
             That
             in
             his
             Luxemburgh
             he
             gave
             it
             place
             ;
          
           
             Call'd
             for
             the
             Pots
             ;
             nor
             could
             at
             meals
             refrain
             ,
          
           
             With
             it
             himself
             and
             Court
             to
             entertain
             .
          
        
         
           
             These
             in
             the
             Winter
             you
             should
             cultivate
             ,
          
           
             That
             so
             upon
             the
             beds
             they
             may
             dilate
          
           
             Their
             percious
             flow'rs
             ,
             which
             only
             can
             restore
          
           
             Your
             Gardens
             life
             ;
             for
             when
             the
             frost
             before
          
           
             Destroy'd
             without
             repulse
             ,
             these
             triumph
             still
             ,
          
           
             And
             conquer
             that
             which
             all
             the
             rest
             do's
             kill
             .
          
           
             When
             others
             with
             dejected
             leaves
             do
             mourn
             ,
          
           
             And
             wet
             Aquarius
             do's
             discharge
             his
             urne
             ;
          
           
             This
             with
             illustrious
             purple
             decks
             the
             fields
             ,
          
           
             But
             if
             her
             Zephyrus
             kind
             breezes
             yields
             ,
          
           
             She
             'l
             flourish
             more
             ;
             by
             which
             we
             well
             may
             find
             ,
          
           
             That
             to
             each
             other
             they
             are
             yet
             inclin'd
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             While
             with
             succeeding
             flow'rs
             the
             year
             is
             crown'd
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             painted
             leaves
             enamel
             all
             the
             ground
             ;
          
           
             Admire
             not
             them
             ,
             but
             with
             more
             grateful
             eyes
          
           
             To
             Heaven
             look
             ,
             and
             their
             great
             Maker
             prize
             .
          
           
             In
             a
             calm
             night
             the
             earth
             and
             heaven
             agree
             ,
          
           
             There
             radiant
             Stars
             ,
             here
             brighter
             Flow'rs
             we
             see
             .
          
        
      
       
         
         
         
           RAPINUS
           OF
           GARDENS
           .
        
         
           Book
           II.
           Woods
           .
        
         
           
             LOng
             rows
             of
             Trees
             and
             Woods
             my
             pen
             invite
             ,
          
           
             With
             shady
             Walks
             a
             Gardens
             chief
             delight
             :
          
           
             For
             nothing
             without
             them
             it
             pleasant
             made
             ;
          
           
             They
             beauty
             to
             the
             ruder
             Countrey
             adde
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             Ye
             Woods
             and
             spreading
             Groves
             afford
             my
             Muse
          
           
             That
             bough
             ,
             with
             which
             the
             sacred
             Poets
             use
          
           
             T'
             adorn
             their
             brows
             ;
             that
             by
             their
             pattern
             led
             ,
          
           
             I
             with
             due
             Laurels
             may
             impale
             my
             head
             .
          
        
         
           
             Methinks
             the
             Okes
             their
             willing
             tops
             incline
             ,
          
           
             Their
             trembling
             leaves
             applauding
             my
             design
             ;
          
           
             With
             joyful
             murmurs
             ,
             and
             unforc't
             assent
             ,
          
           
             The
             Woods
             of
             Gaule
             accord
             me
             their
             consent
             .
          
           
             Cithaeron
             I
             ,
             and
             Menalus
             despise
             ,
          
           
             Oft
             grac't
             by
             the
             Arcadian
             Deities
             ;
          
           
             I
             ,
             nor
             Molorchus
             ,
             or
             Dodona's
             Grove
             ,
          
           
             Or
             thee
             crown'd
             with
             black
             Okes
             ,
             Calydne
             love
             ;
          
           
             Cyllene
             thick
             with
             Cypress
             too
             I
             flye
             ;
          
           
             To
             France
             alone
             my
             Genius
             I
             apply
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             Where
             noble
             Woods
             in
             ev'ry
             part
             abound
             ,
          
           
             And
             pleasant
             Groves
             commend
             the
             fertile
             ground
             .
          
        
         
           
             If
             on
             thy
             native
             soyl
             thou
             dost
             prepare
          
           
             T'
             erect
             a
             Villa
             ,
             you
             must
             place
             it
             there
             ,
          
           
             Where
             a
             free
             prospect
             do's
             it self
             extend
          
           
             Into
             a
             Garden
             ;
             whence
             the
             Sun
             may
             lend
          
           
             His
             influence
             from
             the
             East
             ;
             his
             radiant
             heat
          
           
             Should
             on
             your
             house
             through
             various
             windows
             beat
             :
          
           
             But
             on
             that
             side
             which
             chiefly
             open
             lies
          
           
             To
             the
             North-wind
             ,
             whence
             storms
             and
             show'rs
             arise
             ,
          
           
             There
             plant
             a
             wood
             ;
             for
             ,
             without
             that
             defence
             ,
          
           
             Nothing
             resists
             the
             Northern
             violence
             .
          
           
             While
             with
             destructive
             blasts
             o're
             cliffs
             &
             hills
          
           
             Rough
             Boreas
             moves
             ,
             &
             all
             with
             murmurs
             fills
             ;
          
           
           
             The
             Oke
             with
             shaken
             boughs
             on
             mountains
             rends
             ,
          
           
             The
             Valleys
             rore
             ,
             and
             great
             Olympus
             bends
             .
          
           
             Trees
             therefore
             to
             the
             winds
             you
             must
             expose
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             branches
             best
             their
             pow'rsul
             rage
             oppose
          
        
         
           
             Thus
             woods
             defend
             that
             part
             of
             Normandy
             ,
          
           
             Which
             spreads
             it self
             upon
             the
             Brittish
             Sea.
          
           
             Where
             trees
             do
             all
             along
             the
             Ocean
             side
          
           
             Great
             Villages
             and
             Meadows
             too
             divide
             .
          
        
         
           
             But
             now
             the
             means
             of
             raising
             woods
             I
             sing
             ;
          
           
             Though
             from
             the
             parent
             Oke
             young
             shoots
             may
             spring
             ,
          
           
             Or
             may
             transplanted
             flourish
             ,
             yet
             I
             know
          
           
             No
             better
             means
             then
             if
             from
             seed
             they
             grow
             .
          
           
             'T
             is
             true
             this
             way
             a
             longer
             time
             will
             need
             ,
          
           
             And
             Okes
             but
             slowly
             are
             produc'd
             by
             seed
             :
          
           
           
             Yet
             they
             with
             far
             the
             happier
             shades
             are
             blest
             ;
          
           
             For
             those
             that
             rise
             from
             Acorns
             ,
             as
             they
             best
          
           
             With
             deep-fixt
             roots
             beneath
             the
             earth
             descend
             ,
          
           
             So
             their
             large
             boughs
             into
             the
             air
             ascend
             .
          
           
             Perhaps
             because
             ,
             when
             we
             young
             Sets
             translate
             ,
          
           
             They
             lose
             their
             virtue
             ,
             and
             degenerate
             .
          
           
             While
             Acorns
             better
             thrive
             ,
             since
             from
             their
             birth
          
           
             They
             have
             been
             more
             acquainted
             with
             the
             earth
          
        
         
           
             Thus
             we
             to
             Woods
             by
             Acorns
             Being
             give
             :
          
           
             But
             yet
             before
             the
             ground
             your
             seed
             receive
             ,
          
           
             To
             dig
             it
             first
             employ
             your
             Laborer
             ;
          
           
             Then
             level
             it
             ;
             and
             ,
             if
             young
             shoots
             appear
          
           
             Above
             the
             ground
             ,
             sprung
             from
             the
             cloven
             bud
             ;
          
           
             If
             th'
             earth
             be
             planted
             in
             the
             Spring
             ,
             't
             is
             good
          
           
             Those
             weeds
             by
             frequent
             culture
             to
             remove
             ,
          
           
             Whoseroots
             would
             to
             the
             blossoms
             hurtful
             prove
          
           
           
             Nor
             think
             it
             labour
             lost
             to
             use
             the
             Plow
             :
          
           
             By
             Dung
             and
             Tillage
             all
             things
             fertile
             grow
             .
          
        
         
           
             There
             are
             more
             ways
             then
             one
             to
             plant
             a
             Grove
             ,
          
           
             For
             some
             do
             best
             a
             rude
             confusion
             love
             :
          
           
             Some
             into
             even
             squares
             dispose
             their
             trees
             ,
          
           
             Where
             ev'ry
             side
             do's
             equal
             bounds
             possess
             .
          
           
             Thus
             boxen
             legions
             with
             false
             arms
             appear
          
           
             At
             Chess
             ,
             and
             represent
             a
             face
             of
             war.
          
           
             Which
             sport
             to
             Schaccia
             the
             Italians
             owe
             ;
          
           
             The
             painted
             frames
             alternate
             colours
             show
             .
          
           
             So
             should
             the
             field
             in
             space
             and
             form
             agree
             ;
          
           
             And
             should
             in
             equal
             bounds
             divided
             be
             .
          
        
         
           
             Whether
             you
             plant
             yong
             Sets
             ,
             or
             Acorns
             sow
             ,
          
           
             Still
             order
             keep
             ;
             for
             so
             they
             best
             will
             grow
             .
          
           
             Order
             to
             ev'ry
             tree
             like
             vigour
             gives
             ,
          
           
             And
             room
             for
             the
             aspiring
             branches
             leaves
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             When
             with
             the
             leaf
             your
             hopes
             begin
             to
             bud
             ,
          
           
             Banish
             all
             wanton
             Cattle
             from
             the
             wood
             .
          
           
             The
             browzing
             Goat
             the
             tender
             blossom
             kills
             ;
          
           
             Let
             the
             swift
             Horse
             then
             neigh
             upon
             the
             hills
             ,
          
           
             And
             the
             free
             Herds
             still
             in
             large
             Pastures
             tread
             ;
          
           
             But
             not
             upon
             the
             new-sprung
             branches
             feed
             .
          
           
             For
             whose
             defence
             Inclosures
             should
             be
             made
          
           
             Of
             twigs
             ,
             or
             water
             into
             rills
             convai'd
             .
          
           
             When
             ripening
             time
             ha's
             made
             your
             trees
             dilate
             ,
          
           
             And
             the
             strong
             roots
             do
             deeply
             penetrate
             ,
          
           
             All
             the
             superfluous
             branches
             must
             be
             fell'd
             ,
          
           
             Lest
             the
             oppressed
             trunk
             should
             chance
             to
             yield
          
           
             Under
             the
             weight
             ,
             and
             so
             its
             spirits
             lose
          
           
             In
             fuch
             excre●cencies
             ;
             but
             as
             for
             those
          
           
             Which
             from
             the
             stock
             you
             cut
             ,
             they
             better
             thrive
             ,
          
           
             As
             if
             their
             ruine
             caus'd
             them
             to
             revive
             .
          
           
           
           
           
           
           
             And
             the
             slow
             Plant
             ,
             which
             scaree
             advanc'd
             its
             head
             ,
          
           
             Into
             the
             air
             its
             leavy
             boughts
             will
             spread
             :
          
        
         
           
             When
             from
             the
             fastned
             root
             it
             springs
             amain
             ,
          
           
             And
             can
             the
             fury
             of
             the
             North
             fustain
             ;
          
           
             On
             the
             smooth
             bark
             the
             shepherds
             should
             indire
          
           
             Their
             rural
             strifes
             ,
             and
             there
             their
             verses
             write
             .
          
        
         
           
             But
             let
             no
             impious
             axe
             prophane
             the
             woods
             ,
          
           
             Or
             violate
             the
             sacred
             shades
             ;
             the
             Gods
          
           
             Themselves
             inhabit
             there
             .
             Some
             have
             be
             held
          
           
             Where
             drops
             of
             bloud
             from
             wounded
             Okes
             distill'd
             :
          
           
             Have
             seen
             the
             trembling
             boughs
             with
             horrour
             shake
             !
          
           
             So
             great
             a
             conscience
             did
             the
             Ancients
             make
          
           
           
             To
             cut
             down
             Okes
             ,
             that
             it
             was
             held
             a
             crime
          
           
             In
             that
             obscure
             and
             superstitious
             time
             .
          
           
             For
             Driopeius
             Heaven
             did
             provoke
             ,
          
           
             By
             daring
             to
             destroy
             th'
             AEmonian
             Oke
             ;
          
           
             And
             with
             it
             it
             's
             included
             
               Dryad
               '
            
             too
             :
          
           
             A
             venging
             Ceres
             here
             her
             faith
             did
             show
          
           
             To
             the
             wrong'd
             Nymph
             ;
             while
             Erisichthon
             bore
          
           
             Torments
             ,
             as
             great
             as
             was
             his
             crime
             before
             .
          
           
             Therefore
             it
             well
             might
             belesteem'd
             no
             less
          
           
             Then
             Sacriledge
             ,
             when
             ev'ry
             dark
             recels
          
           
             The
             awful
             silence
             ,
             and
             each
             gloomy
             shade
             ,
          
           
             Was
             sacred
             by
             the
             zealous
             vulgar
             made
             .
          
           
             When
             e're
             they
             cut
             down
             Groves
             ,
             or
             spoil'd
             the
             Trees
             ,
          
           
             With
             gifts
             the
             Antients
             Pales
             did
             appease
             .
          
        
         
           
             Due
             honours
             once
             Dodona's
             Forrest
             had
             ,
          
           
             When
             Oracles
             were
             through
             the
             Okes
             convaid
             .
          
           
           
             When
             woods
             instructed
             Prophets
             to
             foretell
             ,
          
           
             And
             the
             decrees
             of
             fate
             in
             trees
             did
             dwell
             .
          
        
         
           
             If
             the
             aspiring
             Plant
             large
             branches
             bear
             ,
          
           
             And
             Beeches
             with
             extended
             arms
             appear
             ;
          
           
             There
             near
             his
             flocks
             upon
             the
             cooler
             ground
          
           
             The
             Swain
             may
             lie
             ,
             and
             with
             his
             Pipe
             resound
          
           
             His
             loves
             ;
             but
             let
             no
             vice
             these
             shades
             disgrace
             :
          
           
             We
             ought
             to
             bear
             a
             rev'rence
             to
             the
             place
             .
          
           
             The
             boughs
             ,
             th'
             unbroken
             silence
             of
             a
             wood
             ,
          
           
             The
             leaves
             themselves
             demonstrate
             that
             some
             God
          
           
             Inhabits
             there
             ,
             whose
             flames
             might
             be
             so
             just
             ,
          
           
             To
             burn
             those
             groves
             that
             had
             been
             fir'd
             by
             lust
          
        
         
           
             But
             through
             the
             woods
             while
             thus
             the
             Rusticks
             sport
             ,
          
           
             Whole
             flights
             of
             Birds
             will
             thither
             too
             resort
             ;
          
           
           
             Whose
             diff'rent
             notes
             and
             murmurs
             full
             the
             air
             :
          
           
             Thither
             sad
             Philomela
             will
             repair
             ;
          
           
             Once
             to
             her
             sister
             she
             complain'd
             ,
             but
             now
          
           
             She
             warbles
             forth
             her
             grief
             on
             ev'ry
             bough
             :
          
           
             Fills
             all
             with
             Tereus
             crimes
             ,
             her
             own
             hard
             sate
             ;
          
           
             And
             makes
             the
             melting
             rocks
             compassionate
             .
          
           
             Disturb
             not
             birds
             which
             in
             your
             trees
             abide
             ,
          
           
             By
             them
             the
             will
             of
             Heav'n
             is
             signified
             :
          
           
             How
             oft
             from
             hollow
             Okes
             the
             boading
             Crow
             ,
          
           
             The
             winds
             and
             future
             tempests
             do's
             foreshow
             .
          
           
             Of
             these
             the
             wary
             Plowman
             should
             make
             use
             ;
          
           
             Hence
             observations
             of
             his
             own
             deduce
             :
          
           
             And
             so
             the
             changes
             of
             the
             weather
             tell
             .
          
           
             But
             from
             your
             Groves
             all
             hurtful
             birds
             expell
             .
          
        
         
           
             When
             e're
             you
             plant
             ,
             through
             Okes
             your
             Beech
             diffuse
             ;
          
           
             The
             hard
             Male-oke
             ,
             and
             lofty
             Cerrus
             chuse
             .
          
           
           
             While
             Esculus
             of
             the
             mast-bearing
             kind
             ,
          
           
             Chief
             in
             Ilicean
             Groves
             we
             always
             find
             .
          
           
             For
             it
             affords
             a
             far
             extending
             shade
             ;
          
           
             Of
             one
             of
             these
             some
             times
             a
             wood
             is
             made
             .
          
           
             They
             stand
             unmov'd
             ,
             though
             winter
             do's
             assail
             ,
          
           
             Nor
             more
             can
             winds
             ,
             or
             rain
             ,
             or
             storms
             prevail
             .
          
        
         
           
             To
             their
             own
             race
             they
             ever
             are
             inclin'd
             ,
          
           
             And
             love
             with
             their
             associates
             to
             be
             joyn'd
             .
          
           
             When
             Fleets
             are
             rigg'd
             ,
             and
             we
             to
             fight
             prepare
             ,
          
           
             They
             yield
             us
             Plank
             ,
             and
             furnish
             arms
             for
             war.
          
           
             Fewel
             to
             fire
             ,
             to
             Plowmen
             Plows
             they
             give
             ,
          
           
             To
             other
             uses
             we
             may
             them
             derive
             .
          
           
             But
             nothing
             must
             the
             sacred
             Tree
             prophane
             :
          
           
             Some
             boughs
             for
             Garlands
             from
             it
             may
             be
             ta'ne
             .
          
           
             For
             those
             whose
             arms
             their
             Countrey-men
             preserve
             ,
          
           
             Such
             are
             the
             honours
             which
             the
             Okes
             deserve
             .
          
           
           
             We
             know
             not
             certainly
             whence
             first
             of
             all
          
           
             This
             Plant
             did
             borrow
             its
             original
             .
          
           
             Whether
             on
             Ladon
             ,
             or
             on
             Maenalus
          
           
             It
             grew
             ,
             if
             fat
             Chaonia
             did
             produce
          
           
             It
             first
             ,
             but
             better
             from
             our
             Mother
             Earth
             ,
          
           
             Then
             modern
             rumours
             we
             may
             learn
             their
             birth
             .
          
           
             When
             Iupiter
             the
             worlds
             foundation
             laid
             ,
          
           
             Great
             Earth-born
             Giants
             Heaven
             did
             invade
             .
          
           
             And
             Iove
             himself
             ,
             (
             when
             these
             he
             did
             subdue
             ,
             )
          
           
             His
             lightning
             on
             the
             factious
             brethren
             threw
             .
          
           
             Tellus
             her
             sons
             misfortunes
             do's
             deplore
             ;
          
           
             And
             while
             she
             cherishes
             the
             yet-warm
             gore
          
           
             Of
             Rhoecus
             ,
             from
             his
             monstrous
             body
             grows
          
           
             A
             vaster
             trunk
             ,
             and
             from
             his
             breast
             arose
          
           
             A
             hardned
             Oke
             ;
             his
             shoulders
             are
             the
             same
             ,
          
           
             And
             Oke
             his
             high
             exalted
             head
             became
             .
          
           
           
             His
             hundred
             arms
             which
             lately
             through
             the
             air
          
           
             Were
             spread
             ,
             now
             to
             as
             many
             boughs
             repair
             .
          
           
             A
             sevenfold
             bark
             his
             now
             stiff
             trunk
             do's
             bind
             ;
          
           
             And
             where
             the
             Giant
             stood
             ,
             a
             Tree
             we
             find
             .
          
           
             The
             earth
             to
             Iove
             strait
             consecrates
             this
             Tree
             ,
          
           
             Appeasing
             so
             his
             injur'd
             Deity
             ;
          
           
             Then
             't
             was
             that
             man
             did
             the
             first
             Acorns
             eat
             .
          
        
         
           
             Although
             the
             honour
             of
             this
             Plant
             be
             great
             ,
          
           
             Both
             for
             its
             shade
             .
             and
             that
             it
             sacred
             is
             ;
          
           
             Yet
             when
             its
             branches
             shoot
             into
             the
             Skies
             ,
          
           
             Let
             them
             take
             heed
             ,
             while
             with
             his
             brandish'd
             flame
             ,
          
           
             The
             Thund'rer
             rages
             ,
             shaking
             Natures
             frame
             .
          
           
             Lest
             they
             be
             blasted
             by
             his
             pow'rful
             hand
             ,
          
           
             While
             Tamarisks
             secure
             ,
             and
             Mirtles
             stand
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             The
             other
             parts
             of
             woods
             I
             now
             must
             sing
             ;
          
           
             With
             Beech
             ,
             and
             Oke
             ,
             let
             Elm
             ,
             and
             Linden
             spring
             .
          
           
             Nor
             may
             your
             Grove
             the
             Alder-tree
             disdain
             ,
          
           
             Or
             Maple
             of
             a
             double-colour'd
             grain
             .
          
           
             The
             fruitful
             Pine
             ,
             which
             on
             the
             mountain
             stands
             ,
          
           
             And
             there
             at
             large
             its
             noble
             front
             expands
             ;
          
           
             Thick-shooting
             Hazle
             ,
             with
             the
             Quick
             beam
             set
             ,
          
           
             The
             Pitch-tree
             ,
             Withy
             ,
             Lotus
             ever
             wet
             ;
          
           
             With
             well-made
             trunk
             here
             let
             the
             Cornel
             grow
             ,
          
           
             And
             here
             
               Oriciau
               Terebinthus
            
             too
             ;
          
           
             And
             warlike
             Ash
             :
             but
             Birch
             and
             Ewe
             repress
             ;
          
           
             Let
             Pines
             and
             Firrs
             the
             highest
             hills
             possess
             :
          
           
             Brambles
             and
             Brakes
             fill
             up
             each
             vacant
             space
          
           
             With
             hurtful
             thorns
             ;
             in
             your
             fields
             Walnuts
             place
             .
          
           
           
             And
             hoary
             Iunipers
             ,
             with
             Chesnuts
             good
             ,
          
           
             VVith
             hoops
             to
             barrel
             up
             Lyoeus
             bloud
             .
          
        
         
           
             The
             diffrence
             which
             in
             planting
             each
             is
             found
             ,
          
           
             Now
             learn
             ;
             since
             th'
             Elm
             with
             happy
             verdure's
             crown'd
             :
          
           
             Since
             its
             thick
             branches
             do
             themselves
             extend
             ,
          
           
             And
             a
             fair
             bark
             do's
             the
             tall
             trunk
             commend
             ;
          
           
             VVith
             rows
             of
             Elm
             your
             garden
             or
             your
             field
          
           
             May
             be
             adorn'd
             ,
             and
             the
             Suns
             heat
             repell'd
             .
          
           
             They
             best
             the
             borders
             of
             your
             walks
             compose
             ;
          
           
             Their
             comely
             green
             still
             ornamental
             shows
             .
          
           
             On
             a
             large
             flat
             continued
             ranks
             may
             rise
             ,
          
           
             VVhose
             length
             will
             tire
             our
             feet
             ,
             and
             bound
             our
             eyes
             .
          
           
             The
             Gardens
             thus
             of
             Fountain-bleau
             are
             grac'd
          
           
             By
             spreading
             Elms
             ,
             which
             on
             each
             side
             are
             plac'd
             .
          
           
           
             VVhere
             endless
             walks
             the
             pleas'd
             spectator
             views
             ,
          
           
             And
             ev'ry
             turn
             the
             verdant
             Scene
             renews
             .
          
        
         
           
             The
             sage
             Gorycian
             thus
             his
             native
             field
          
           
             Near
             swift
             
               Oobalian
               Galesus
            
             till'd
             .
          
           
             A
             thousand
             ways
             of
             planting
             Elms
             he
             found
             ;
          
           
             With
             them
             he
             would
             sometimes
             inclose
             his
             ground
             :
          
           
             Oft
             in
             directer
             lines
             to
             plant
             he
             chose
             ;
          
           
             From
             one
             vast
             tree
             a
             num'rous
             offspring
             rose
             .
          
           
             Each
             younger
             Plant
             with
             its
             old
             Parent
             vies
             ,
          
           
             And
             from
             its
             trunk
             like
             branches
             still
             arise
             .
          
           
             They
             hurt
             each
             other
             if
             too
             near
             they
             grow
             ;
          
           
             Therefore
             to
             all
             a
             proper
             space
             allow
             .
          
        
         
           
             The
             
               Thracian
               Bard
            
             a
             pleasing
             Elm-tree
             chose
             ,
          
           
             Nor
             thought
             it
             was
             below
             him
             to
             repose
          
           
           
             Beneath
             its
             shade
             ,
             when
             he
             from
             hell
             return'd
             ,
          
           
             And
             for
             twice-lost
             Enrydice
             so
             mourn'd
             .
          
           
             Hard
             by
             cool
             
               Hebrus
               Rhodop
               '
            
             do's
             aspire
             ;
          
           
             The
             Artist
             ,
             here
             ,
             no
             sooner
             touch'd
             his
             lyre
             ,
          
           
             But
             from
             the
             shade
             the
             spreading
             boughs
             drew
             near
             ,
          
           
             And
             the
             thick
             trees
             a
             sudden
             wood
             appear
             .
          
           
             Holm
             ,
             Withy
             ,
             Cypress
             ,
             Plane
             trees
             thither
             prest
             :
          
           
             The
             prouder
             Elm
             advanc'd
             before
             the
             rest
             ;
          
           
             And
             shewing
             him
             his
             wife
             ,
             the
             Vine
             ,
             advis'd
             ,
          
           
             That
             Nuptial
             Rites
             were
             not
             to
             be
             despis'd
             .
          
           
             But
             he
             the
             counsel
             scorn'd
             ,
             and
             by
             his
             hate
          
           
             Of
             Wedlock
             ,
             and
             the
             Sex
             ,
             incurr'd
             his
             fate
             .
          
        
         
           
             High
             shooting
             Linden
             next
             exacts
             your
             care
             ;
          
           
             With
             grateful
             shades
             to
             those
             who
             take
             the
             air
             .
          
           
           
             When
             these
             you
             plant
             ,
             you
             still
             should
             bear
             in
             mind
          
           
             Philemon
             and
             chaste
             Baucis
             :
             These
             were
             joyn'd
          
           
             In
             a
             poor
             Cottage
             ,
             by
             their
             pious
             love
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             sacred
             ties
             did
             no
             less
             lasting
             prove
             ,
          
           
             Then
             life
             it self
             .
             They
             Iove
             once
             entertain'd
             ,
          
           
             And
             by
             their
             kindness
             so
             much
             on
             him
             gain'd
             ;
          
           
             That
             ,
             being
             worn
             by
             times
             devouring
             rage
             ,
          
           
             He
             chang'd
             to
             trees
             their
             weak
             and
             useless
             age
             .
          
           
             Though
             now
             transform'd
             ,
             they
             Male
             and
             Female
             are
             ;
          
           
             Nor
             did
             their
             change
             ought
             of
             their
             Sex
             impair
             .
          
           
             Their
             Timber
             chiefly
             is
             for
             Turners
             good
             ;
          
           
             They
             soon
             shoot
             up
             ,
             and
             rise
             into
             a
             wood
             .
          
        
         
           
             Respect
             is
             likewise
             to
             the
             Maple
             due
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             leaves
             ,
             both
             in
             their
             figure
             ,
             and
             their
             hue
             ,
          
           
           
             Are
             like
             the
             Linden
             ;
             but
             it
             rudely
             grows
             ,
          
           
             And
             horrid
             wrinkles
             all
             its
             trunk
             inclose
             .
          
        
         
           
             The
             Pine
             ,
             which
             spreads
             it self
             in
             ev'ry
             part
             ,
          
           
             And
             from
             each
             side
             large
             branches
             do's
             impart
             ,
          
           
             Addes
             not
             the
             least
             perfection
             to
             your
             Groves
             ;
          
           
             Nothing
             the
             glory
             of
             its
             leaf
             removes
             .
          
           
             A
             noble
             verdure
             ever
             it
             retains
             ,
          
           
             And
             o're
             the
             humbler
             plants
             it
             proudly
             reigns
             .
          
           
             To
             the
             Gods
             Mother
             dear
             ;
             for
             Cybele
          
           
             Turn'd
             her
             beloved
             Atys
             to
             this
             Tree
             .
          
           
             On
             one
             of
             these
             vain-glorious
             Marsyas
             died
             ,
          
           
             And
             paid
             his
             skin
             to
             Phoebus
             for
             his
             pride
             .
          
           
             A
             way
             of
             boring
             holes
             in
             Box
             he
             found
             ,
          
           
             And
             with
             his
             artful
             fingers
             chang'd
             the
             sound
             .
          
           
             Glad
             of
             himself
             ,
             and
             thirsty
             after
             praise
             ,
          
           
             On
             his
             shrill
             Box
             he
             to
             the
             shepherds
             plays
             .
          
           
           
             With
             thee
             ,
             Apollo
             ,
             next
             he
             will
             contend
             ;
          
           
             From
             thee
             all
             charms
             of
             musick
             do
             descend
             .
          
           
             But
             the
             bold
             Piper
             soon
             receiv'd
             his
             doom
             ;
          
           
             (
             who
             strive
             with
             Heaven
             never
             overcome
             .
             )
          
           
             A
             strong
             made
             nut
             their
             apples
             fortifies
             ,
          
           
             Against
             the
             storms
             which
             threaten
             from
             the
             Skies
             .
          
           
             The
             trees
             are
             hardy
             ,
             as
             the
             fruits
             they
             bear
             ,
          
           
             And
             where
             rough
             winds
             the
             rugged
             mountains
             tear
             ,
          
           
             There
             flourish
             best
             :
             the
             lower
             vales
             they
             dread
             ,
          
           
             And
             languish
             if
             they
             have
             not
             room
             to
             spread
             .
          
        
         
           
             Hazle
             dispers'd
             in
             any
             place
             will
             live
             :
          
           
             In
             stony
             grounds
             wild
             Ash
             ,
             and
             Cornel
             thrive
             ;
          
           
             In
             more
             abrupt
             recesses
             these
             we
             find
             ,
          
           
             Spontaneously
             expos'd
             to
             rain
             and
             wind
             .
          
           
           
             Alder
             ,
             and
             Withy
             ,
             chearful
             streams
             frequent
             ,
          
           
             And
             are
             the
             Rivers
             onely
             ornament
             .
          
           
             If
             ancient
             Fables
             are
             to
             be
             believ'd
             ,
          
           
             These
             were
             associates
             heretofore
             ,
             and
             liv'd
          
           
             On
             fishy
             Rivers
             ,
             in
             a
             little
             Boat
             ,
          
           
             And
             with
             their
             Nets
             their
             painful
             living
             got
             .
          
           
             The
             Festival
             approch'd
             ;
             with
             one
             consent
          
           
             All
             on
             the
             Rites
             of
             Pales
             are
             intent
             :
          
           
             While
             these
             unmindful
             of
             the
             Holy-day
             ,
          
           
             Their
             Nets
             to
             dry
             upon
             the
             shore
             display
             .
          
           
             But
             vengeance
             soon
             th'
             offenders
             overtook
             ,
          
           
             Persisting
             still
             to
             labour
             in
             the
             Brook.
          
           
             The
             angry
             Goddess
             fix'd
             them
             to
             the
             shore
             ,
          
           
             And
             for
             their
             fault
             doom'd
             them
             to
             work
             no
             more
             .
          
           
             Thus
             to
             eternal
             idleness
             condemn'd
             ;
          
           
             They
             felt
             the
             weight
             of
             Heaven
             ,
             when
             contemn'd
             .
          
           
           
             The
             moisture
             of
             those
             streams
             by
             which
             they
             stand
             ,
          
           
             Indues
             them
             both
             with
             power
             to
             expand
          
           
             Their
             leaves
             abroad
             ;
             leaves
             ,
             which
             from
             guilt
             look
             pale
             ;
          
           
             In
             which
             the
             never-ceasing
             Frogs
             bewail
             .
          
        
         
           
             Let
             lofty
             hills
             ,
             and
             each
             declining
             ground
             ,
          
           
             (
             For
             there
             they
             flourish
             )
             with
             tall
             Firrs
             abound
             .
          
           
             Layers
             of
             these
             cut
             from
             some
             ancient
             Grove
             ,
          
           
             And
             buried
             deep
             in
             mold
             ,
             in
             time
             will
             move
          
           
             Young
             shoots
             above
             the
             earth
             ,
             which
             soon
             disdain
          
           
             The
             Southern
             blasts
             ,
             and
             launch
             into
             the
             Main
             .
          
        
         
           
             But
             in
             more
             even
             fields
             the
             Ash
             delights
             ,
          
           
             Where
             agood
             soyl
             the
             gen'rous
             Plant
             invites
             .
          
           
           
             For
             from
             an
             Ash
             ,
             which
             Pelion
             once
             did
             bear
             ,
          
           
             Divine
             Achilles
             took
             that
             happy
             Spear
             ,
          
           
             Which
             Hector
             kill'd
             ;
             and
             in
             their
             Champions
             Fate
          
           
             Involv'd
             the
             ruine
             of
             the
             Trojan
             State.
          
           
             The
             Gods
             were
             kind
             to
             let
             brave
             Hector
             dye
          
           
             By
             arms
             ,
             as
             noble
             ,
             as
             his
             enemy
             .
          
           
             Ash
             ,
             like
             the
             stubborn
             Heroe
             in
             his
             end
             ,
          
           
             Always
             resolves
             rather
             to
             break
             then
             bend
             .
          
        
         
           
             Some
             tears
             are
             due
             to
             the
             Heliades
             ;
          
           
             Those
             many
             which
             they
             shed
             deserve
             no
             less
             .
          
           
             Griev'd
             for
             their
             brothers
             death
             in
             Woods
             they
             range
             ,
          
           
             And
             worn
             with
             sorrow
             into
             Poplars
             change
             .
          
           
             By
             which
             their
             grief
             was
             rend'red
             more
             divine
             ,
          
           
             While
             all
             their
             tears
             in
             precious
             Amber
             shine
             .
          
           
           
             These
             ,
             with
             your
             other
             Plants
             ,
             still
             propagate
             :
          
           
             'T
             is
             true
             indeed
             they
             are
             appropriate
          
           
             To
             Italy
             alone
             ,
             and
             near
             the
             Po
             ,
          
           
             Who
             gave
             them
             their
             first
             being
             ,
             best
             they
             grow
             .
          
        
         
           
             Into
             your
             Forrests
             shady
             Poplars
             bring
             ,
          
           
             Which
             from
             their
             seed
             with
             equal
             vigor
             spring
             .
          
           
             Rich
             Groves
             of
             Ebony
             let
             India
             show
             ;
          
           
             Iudaea
             Balsoms
             which
             in
             Gilead
             flow
             :
          
           
             Persia
             from
             trees
             her
             silken
             Fleeces
             comb
             ;
          
           
             Arabia
             furnish
             the
             Sabaean
             Gum
             ;
          
           
             Whose
             odours
             sweetness
             to
             our
             Temples
             lend
             ,
          
           
             And
             at
             the
             Altar
             with
             our
             pray'rs
             ascend
             :
          
           
             Yet
             I
             the
             Groves
             of
             France
             do
             more
             admire
             ,
          
           
             VVhich
             now
             on
             Meads
             ,
             and
             now
             on
             hills
             aspire
             .
          
           
           
             I
             not
             the
             Wood-nymph
             ,
             not
             the
             Pontick
             Pine
          
           
             Esteem
             ,
             which
             boasts
             the
             splendor
             of
             its
             Line
             ;
          
           
             Or
             those
             which
             old
             Lycaeum
             did
             adorn
             ;
          
           
             Or
             Box
             on
             the
             Cytorian
             mountain
             born
             :
          
           
             Th'
             Idaen
             Vale
             ,
             or
             Erimanthian
             Grove
             ,
          
           
             In
             me
             no
             reverence
             ,
             no
             horrour
             move
             ;
          
           
             Since
             I
             no
             trees
             can
             find
             so
             large
             ,
             so
             tall
             ,
          
           
             As
             those
             which
             fill
             the
             shady
             VVoods
             of
             Gause
             .
          
        
         
           
             VVhen
             from
             the
             cloven
             bud
             young
             boughs
             proceed
             ,
          
           
             And
             the
             Mast-bearing
             trees
             their
             leaves
             do
             spread
             ;
          
           
             The
             pestilential
             air
             oft
             vitiates
          
           
             The
             seasons
             of
             the
             year
             ,
             and
             this
             creates
          
           
             VVhole
             swarms
             of
             Vermin
             ,
             which
             the
             leaves
             assail
             ,
          
           
             And
             on
             the
             woods
             in
             num'rous
             armies
             fall
             .
          
           
           
             Creatures
             in
             different
             shapes
             together
             joyn'd
             ,
          
           
             The
             horrid
             Eruc's
             ,
             Palmer-worm
             design'd
          
           
             With
             its
             pestif'rous
             odours
             to
             annoy
          
           
             Your
             Plants
             ,
             and
             their
             young
             offspring
             to
             destroy
             .
          
           
             Remember
             then
             to
             take
             these
             plagues
             away
             ,
          
           
             Lest
             they
             break
             out
             in
             the
             first
             show'rs
             of
             May.
             
          
        
         
           
             From
             planting
             new
             ,
             and
             lopping
             aged
             trees
             ,
          
           
             The
             prudent
             Ancients
             bid
             us
             never
             cease
             :
          
           
             Thus
             no
             decay
             is
             in
             our
             Forrests
             known
             ;
          
           
             But
             in
             their
             honour
             we
             preserve
             our
             own
             .
          
           
             Thus
             in
             your
             fields
             a
             sudden
             race
             will
             rise
             ,
          
           
             Which
             with
             your
             Nurseries
             will
             yield
             supplies
             ;
          
           
             That
             may
             agen
             some
             drooping
             Grove
             renew
             :
          
           
             For
             trees
             like
             men
             have
             their
             successions
             too
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             Their
             solid
             bodies
             worms
             and
             age
             impair
             ,
          
           
             And
             the
             vast
             Oke
             give
             place
             to
             his
             next
             heir
             .
          
           
             While
             such
             designs
             employ
             your
             vacant
             hours
             ,
          
           
             As
             ordering
             your
             woods
             ,
             and
             shady
             bow'rs
             ;
          
           
             Despise
             not
             humbler
             Plants
             ,
             for
             they
             no
             less
             ,
          
           
             Then
             trees
             ,
             your
             Gardens
             beauty
             do
             increase
             .
          
           
             With
             what
             content
             we
             look
             on
             Myrtle
             Groves
             !
          
           
             On
             verdant
             Laurels
             !
             There
             's
             no
             man
             but
             loves
          
           
             To
             find
             his
             Limon
             ,
             with
             Acanthus
             ,
             thrive
             .
          
           
             To
             see
             the
             lovely
             Phyllirea
             live
             ;
          
           
             With
             Oleander
             .
             Ah!
             to
             what
             delights
          
           
             Shorn
             Cypress
             ,
             and
             sweet
             Gelsemine
             invites
             .
          
        
         
           
             If
             any
             Plain
             be
             near
             your
             Garden
             found
             ,
          
           
             With
             Cypress
             ,
             or
             with
             Horn-beam
             hedge
             it
             round
             .
          
           
           
             Which
             in
             a
             thousand
             Mazes
             will
             conspire
             ,
          
           
             And
             to
             recesses
             unperceiv'd
             retire
             .
          
           
             Its
             branches
             ,
             like
             a
             wall
             ,
             the
             paths
             divide
             ;
          
           
             Affording
             a
             fresh
             Scene
             on
             ev'ry
             side
             .
          
           
             'T
             is
             true
             ,
             that
             it
             was
             honour'd
             heretofore
             ;
          
           
             But
             order
             quickly
             made
             valued
             more
             ,
          
           
             By
             its
             shorn
             leaves
             ,
             and
             those
             delights
             which
             rose
          
           
             From
             the
             distinguish'd
             forms
             in
             which
             it
             grows
             ,
          
           
             To
             some
             cool
             Arbor
             ,
             by
             the
             ways
             deceit
             ,
          
           
             Allur'd
             ,
             we
             haste
             ,
             or
             some
             oblique
             retreat
             :
          
           
             Where
             underneath
             its
             umbrage
             we
             may
             meet
          
           
             With
             sure
             defence
             against
             the
             raging
             heat
             .
          
        
         
           
             Though
             Cypresses
             contiguous
             well
             appear
             ,
          
           
             They
             better
             shew
             if
             planted
             not
             so
             near
             .
          
           
             And
             since
             to
             any
             shape
             ,
             with
             ease
             ,
             they
             yield
             ,
          
           
             What
             bound's
             more
             proper
             to
             divide
             a
             field
             ?
          
           
           
             Repine
             not
             Cyparissus
             ,
             then
             in
             vain
             ;
          
           
             For
             by
             your
             change
             you
             glory
             did
             obtain
             .
          
        
         
           
             Silvanus
             and
             this
             Boy
             with
             equal
             fire
          
           
             Did
             heretofore
             a
             lovely
             Hart
             admire
             ;
          
           
             While
             in
             the
             cooler
             Pastures
             once
             it
             fed
             ,
          
           
             An
             arrow
             shot
             at
             random
             struck
             it
             dead
             .
          
           
             But
             when
             the
             youth
             the
             dying
             beast
             had
             found
             ,
          
           
             And
             knew
             himself
             the
             author
             of
             the
             wound
             ,
          
           
             With
             never
             ceasing
             sorrow
             he
             laments
             ,
          
           
             And
             on
             his
             breast
             his
             grief
             and
             anger
             vents
             .
          
           
             Silvanus
             mov'd
             with
             the
             poor
             creatures
             fate
             ,
          
           
             Converts
             his
             former
             love
             to
             present
             hate
             .
          
           
             And
             no
             more
             pity
             in
             his
             angry
             words
             ,
          
           
             Then
             to
             himself
             th'
             afflicted
             youth
             affords
             .
          
           
             Weary
             of
             life
             ,
             and
             quite
             opprest
             with
             woe
             ,
          
           
             Upon
             the
             ground
             his
             tears
             in
             channels
             flow
             :
          
           
           
             Which
             having
             water'd
             the
             productive
             earth
             ,
          
           
             The
             Cypress
             first
             from
             thence
             deriv'd
             its
             birth
             ,
          
           
             With
             Silvan's
             aid
             ;
             nor
             was
             it
             onely
             meant
          
           
             T'
             express
             our
             sorrow
             ,
             but
             for
             ornament
             .
          
           
             Chiefly
             when
             growing
             low
             your
             fields
             they
             bound
             ,
          
           
             Or
             when
             your
             Gardens
             Avenues
             are
             crown'd
          
           
             With
             their
             long
             rows
             ;
             sometimes
             it
             ;
             serves
             to
             hide
          
           
             Some
             Trench
             delining
             on
             the
             other
             side
             .
          
           
             Th'
             unequal
             branches
             always
             keep
             that
             green
             ,
          
           
             Of
             which
             its
             leaves
             are
             ne're
             devested
             seen
             .
          
           
             Though
             shook
             with
             storms
             ,
             yet
             it
             unmov'd
             remains
             ,
          
           
             And
             by
             its
             trial
             greater
             glory
             gains
             .
          
        
         
           
             Let
             Phyllirea
             on
             your
             walls
             be
             plac'd
             ,
          
           
             Either
             with
             wire
             ,
             or
             slender
             twigs
             made
             fast
             .
          
           
           
             It
             s
             brighter
             leaf
             with
             proudest
             Arras
             vies
             ,
          
           
             And
             lends
             a
             pleasing
             object
             to
             our
             eyes
             .
          
           
             Then
             let
             it
             freely
             on
             your
             walls
             ascend
             ,
          
           
             And
             there
             its
             native
             Tapestry
             extend
             .
          
        
         
           
             Nor
             knows
             he
             well
             to
             make
             his
             Garden
             shine
          
           
             With
             all
             delights
             ,
             who
             fragrant
             Iassemine
          
           
             Neglects
             to
             cherish
             ,
             wherein
             heretofore
          
           
             Industrious
             Bees
             laid
             up
             their
             precious
             store
             .
          
           
             Unless
             with
             poles
             you
             fix
             it
             to
             the
             wall
             ,
          
           
             It
             s
             own
             deceitful
             trunk
             will
             quickly
             fall
             .
          
           
             These
             shrubs
             ,
             like
             wanton
             Ivy
             ,
             still
             mount
             high
             ;
          
           
             But
             wanting
             strength
             on
             other
             props
             rely
             .
          
           
             The
             pliant
             branches
             which
             they
             always
             bear
             ,
          
           
             Make
             them
             with
             ease
             to
             any
             thing
             adhear
             .
          
           
             The
             pleasing
             odors
             which
             their
             flow'rs
             expire
             ,
          
           
             Make
             the
             young
             Nymphs
             and
             Matrons
             them
             desire
             ,
          
           
           
             Those
             to
             adorn
             themselves
             withall
             ;
             but
             these
          
           
             To
             grace
             the
             Altars
             of
             the
             Deities
             .
          
        
         
           
             With
             forreign
             Iassemine
             be
             also
             stor'd
             ,
          
           
             Such
             as
             Iberian
             Valleys
             do
             afford
             :
          
           
             Those
             which
             we
             borrow
             from
             the
             Portuguese
             ;
          
           
             With
             them
             which
             from
             the
             Ind●es
             o're
             the
             Seas
          
           
             We
             fetch
             by
             ship
             ;
             in
             each
             of
             which
             we
             find
          
           
             A
             difference
             of
             colour
             ,
             and
             of
             kind
             .
          
           
             Though
             gentle
             Zephyrus
             propitious
             proves
             ,
          
           
             And
             welcome
             Spring
             the
             rigid
             cold
             removes
             ;
          
           
             Haste
             not
             too
             soon
             this
             tender
             Plant
             t'
             expose
             .
          
           
             Your
             Gardens
             glory
             ,
             the
             rash
             Primrose
             ,
             shows
          
           
             Delay
             is
             better
             ;
             since
             they
             oft
             are
             lost
             ,
          
           
             By
             venturing
             too
             much
             into
             the
             frost
             .
          
           
             The
             cruel
             blasts
             which
             come
             from
             the
             North
             wind
             ,
          
           
             To
             over-hasty
             flow'rs
             are
             still
             unkind
             .
          
           
           
             Let
             others
             ills
             create
             this
             good
             in
             you
             ,
          
           
             Without
             deliberation
             nothing
             do
             .
          
           
             For
             this
             will
             scarce
             the
             open
             air
             endure
             ,
          
           
             Till
             by
             sufficient
             warmth
             it
             is
             secure
             .
          
        
         
           
             No
             Tree
             your
             Gardens
             ,
             or
             your
             Fountains
             more
          
           
             Adorns
             ,
             then
             what
             th'
             Atlantick
             Apples
             bore
             .
          
           
             A
             deathless
             beauty
             crowns
             its
             shining
             leaves
             ,
          
           
             And
             to
             dark
             Groves
             its
             flower
             lustre
             gives
             .
          
           
             Besides
             the
             splendour
             of
             its
             golden
             fruit
             ,
          
           
             Of
             which
             the
             boughs
             are
             never
             destitute
             ;
          
           
             This
             gen'rous
             Shrub
             in
             Cases
             then
             dispose
             ,
          
           
             Made
             of
             strong
             Oke
             ,
             these
             little
             woods
             compose
             ;
          
           
             Whose
             gilded
             fruits
             ,
             and
             flow'rs
             which
             never
             fade
             ,
          
           
             A
             grace
             to
             th'
             Countrey
             and
             your
             Garden
             adde
             ,
          
           
           
             Proud
             of
             the
             treasures
             Nature
             ha's
             bestow'd
             .
          
           
             When
             snowy
             flow'rs
             the
             slender
             branches
             load
             ,
          
           
             And
             straying
             Nymphs
             to
             gather
             them
             prepare
             ,
          
           
             Molest
             them
             not
             ;
             but
             let
             your
             Wife
             be
             there
             ;
          
           
             Your
             Children
             ,
             all
             your
             Family
             employ
             ,
          
           
             That
             so
             your
             house
             its
             orders
             may
             enjoy
             :
          
           
             That
             with
             sweet
             Garlands
             all
             may
             shade
             their
             brows
             ;
          
           
             For
             in
             their
             flow'is
             these
             Plants
             their
             vigor
             lose
          
           
             Suffer
             the
             Nymphs
             to
             crop
             luxuriant
             trees
             ,
          
           
             And
             with
             their
             fragrant
             wreaths
             themselves
             to
             please
             .
          
           
             Such
             soft
             delights
             they
             love
             ;
             then
             let
             them
             still
          
           
             With
             their
             fresh-gather'd
             fruit
             their
             bosoms
             fill
             .
          
           
             These
             Apples
             Atalanta
             once
             betray'd
             :
          
           
             They
             ,
             and
             not
             Love
             ,
             o'recame
             the
             cruel
             Maid
             .
          
           
           
             These
             were
             the
             golden
             Balls
             which
             slack'd
             her
             pace
             ,
          
           
             And
             made
             her
             lose
             the
             honour
             of
             the
             race
             .
          
        
         
           
             But
             these
             sweet
             smells
             ,
             and
             pleasant
             shades
             will
             cease
             ,
          
           
             Nor
             longer
             be
             your
             Gardens
             happiness
             ;
          
           
             Unless
             the
             hostile
             winter
             be
             represt
             ,
          
           
             And
             those
             strong
             blasts
             sent
             from
             the
             stormy
             East
             .
          
           
             Wherefore
             to
             hinder
             these
             from
             doing
             harm
             ,
          
           
             You
             must
             your
             trees
             with
             walls
             defensive
             arm
             .
          
           
             To
             such
             warm
             seats
             they
             ever
             are
             inclin'd
             ,
          
           
             Where
             they
             avoid
             the
             fury
             of
             the
             wind
             .
          
           
             These
             Plants
             ,
             besides
             that
             they
             this
             cold
             would
             shun
             ,
          
           
             Look
             for
             th'
             Assyrian
             ,
             and
             the
             Median
             Sun.
          
           
           
             In
             parched
             Africa
             they
             flourish
             more
             ,
          
           
             Then
             if
             they
             grow
             by
             Strimons
             Icy
             shore
             .
          
           
             Lest
             then
             the
             frost
             ,
             or
             barb'rous
             North
             should
             blast
          
           
             Your
             flow'rs
             ,
             while
             all
             the
             Sky
             is
             over-cast
          
           
             With
             duskish
             clouds
             ,
             sheds
             set
             apart
             prepare
             ,
          
           
             To
             guard
             them
             from
             the
             winters
             piercing
             air
             ;
          
           
             Till
             the
             kind
             Sun
             these
             tempests
             do's
             disperse
             ,
          
           
             And
             with
             his
             influence
             chears
             the
             Universe
             .
          
           
             Then
             calmer
             breezes
             shall
             o're
             storms
             prevail
             ,
          
           
             And
             your
             fresh
             Groves
             shall
             sweet
             Perfumes
             exhale
             .
          
        
         
           
             These
             trees
             are
             various
             ,
             and
             the
             fruits
             they
             bear
             ,
          
           
             Are
             diff'rent
             too
             .
             The
             Limons
             always
             are
          
           
             Of
             oval
             figure
             ,
             underneath
             whose
             rind
          
           
             A
             juyce
             ungrateful
             to
             our
             taste
             we
             find
             .
          
           
           
             But
             though
             at
             first
             our
             Palates
             it
             displease
             ,
          
           
             Yet
             better
             with
             our
             stomack
             it
             agrees
             .
          
           
             Others
             less
             sharp
             do
             in
             Hetruria
             spring
             ;
          
           
             Some
             ,
             that
             are
             mild
             ,
             from
             Portugal
             we
             bring
             .
          
           
             Another
             sort
             from
             old
             Aurantia
             came
             ,
          
           
             To
             which
             that
             City
             do's
             impart
             its
             name
             .
          
           
             Hard
             by
             
               Dircaean
               Aracynthus
            
             lies
          
           
             This
             ancient
             Town
             ;
             the
             Orange
             hence
             do'srise
             .
          
           
             To
             which
             in
             rind
             and
             juyce
             the
             Limons
             yield
             ,
          
           
             By
             each
             new
             soyl
             new
             tasts
             are
             oft
             instill'd
             .
          
        
         
           
             Mind
             not
             the
             fables
             by
             the
             Grecians
             told
          
           
             Of
             the
             Hesperian
             Sisters
             ,
             who
             of
             old
          
           
             On
             vast
             Mount
             Atlas
             ,
             near
             the
             Libyan
             Sea
             ,
          
           
             With
             greatest
             care
             did
             cultivate
             this
             Tree
          
           
             Of
             fierce
             Alcides
             ,
             who
             by
             force
             brake
             in
             ,
          
           
             And
             in
             the
             spoils
             o'
             th'
             Nemean
             skin
             ;
          
           
           
             And
             from
             the
             Dragon
             ,
             who
             securely
             slept
             ,
          
           
             Stole
             ,
             with
             success
             ,
             the
             apples
             which
             he
             kept
             .
          
           
             Return'd
             to
             th'
             Aventine
             ,
             he
             sets
             that
             hill
             ,
          
           
             With
             Orange-trees
             ,
             which
             Italy
             now
             fill
             .
          
           
             But
             things
             of
             greater
             moment
             are
             behind
             ;
          
           
             For
             Purple
             Oleander
             may
             be
             joyn'd
          
           
             With
             Oranges
             ,
             and
             Myrtles
             ;
             each
             of
             these
          
           
             Peculiar
             graces
             of
             their
             own
             possess
             .
          
           
             The
             Myrtle
             chiefly
             ,
             which
             ,
             if
             fame
             says
             true
             ,
          
           
             From
             the
             God's
             bounty
             its
             beginning
             drew
             .
          
        
         
           
             When
             Venus
             plac't
             it
             in
             the
             pleasant
             shade
          
           
             Of
             the
             Idaean
             Vales
             ,
             about
             it
             plaid
          
           
             Whole
             troups
             of
             wanton
             Cupids
             ,
             while
             the
             night
          
           
             Was
             clear
             ,
             and
             Cynthia
             did
             display
             her
             light
             .
          
           
             This
             Citherea
             above
             all
             prefers
             ,
          
           
             And
             by
             transcendent
             favour
             made
             it
             hers
             .
          
           
           
             With
             Myrtle
             ,
             hence
             ,
             the
             wedded
             pair
             delights
          
           
             To
             crown
             their
             brows
             at
             Hymenaeal
             Rites
             .
          
           
             Hence
             Iuno
             ,
             who
             at
             Marriages
             presides
             ,
          
           
             For
             Nuptial
             Torches
             always
             these
             provide
             .
          
           
             Eriphyle
             ,
             sad
             Procris
             ,
             Phaedra
             too
             ,
          
           
             And
             all
             those
             fools
             ,
             who
             in
             Elysium
             wooe
             ,
          
           
             Honour
             this
             Plant
             ,
             and
             under
             Myrtle
             Groves
             ,
          
           
             If
             after
             death
             they
             last
             ,
             recount
             their
             loves
             .
          
        
         
           
             Proud
             Victors
             with
             its
             boughs
             themselves
             adorn
             ,
          
           
             While
             round
             their
             temples
             wreaths
             with
             it
             are
             worn
             .
          
           
             Tudertus
             ,
             when
             the
             vanquish'd
             Sabines
             fled
             ,
          
           
             Plac'd
             one
             of
             these
             on
             his
             triumphant
             head
             .
          
           
             The
             trunk
             is
             humble
             ,
             and
             the
             top
             as
             low
             ,
          
           
             On
             which
             soft
             leaves
             and
             curled
             branches
             grow
             .
          
           
           
             It
             s
             grateful
             smell
             ,
             and
             beauty
             so
             exact
             ,
          
           
             Th'
             admiring
             Nymphs
             from
             ev'ry
             part
             attract
             .
          
           
             If
             too
             much
             heat
             ,
             or
             sudden
             cold
             surprize
             ,
          
           
             Which
             are
             alike
             the
             Myrtles
             enemies
             ,
          
           
             You
             must
             avoid
             them
             both
             ,
             and
             quickly
             place
          
           
             The
             tender
             Plant
             within
             a
             wooden
             Case
             .
          
           
             Sheds
             may
             protect
             them
             ,
             if
             the
             cold
             be
             great
             ;
          
           
             Or
             watring
             from
             the
             Summers
             scorching
             heat
             ,
          
           
             No
             impious
             tool
             our
             tenderness
             allows
             ,
          
           
             To
             fell
             these
             groves
             ,
             nor
             cattel
             here
             must
             browse
          
        
         
           
             Oft
             Oleanders
             in
             great
             Vasd's
             live
             ,
          
           
             With
             Myrtles
             mix'd
             ,
             and
             Oranges
             ,
             and
             give
          
           
             Some
             graces
             to
             your
             Garden
             ,
             which
             arise
          
           
             From
             the
             confusion
             of
             their
             diff'rent
             dies
             .
          
        
         
           
             In
             watry
             Vales
             ,
             where
             pleasant
             Fountains
             flow
             ,
          
           
             Their
             fragrant
             berries
             lovely
             Bay-trees
             show
             .
          
           
           
             With
             leaves
             for
             ever
             green
             ,
             nor
             can
             we
             guess
          
           
             By
             their
             endowments
             their
             extraction
             less
             .
          
           
             The
             charming
             Nymph
             liv'd
             by
             clear
             Peneus
             side
             ,
          
           
             And
             might
             to
             Love
             himself
             have
             been
             ally'd
             ,
          
           
             But
             that
             she
             chose
             in
             virtues
             path
             to
             tread
             ,
          
           
             And
             thought
             a
             God
             unworthy
             of
             her
             bed
             .
          
           
             Phaebus
             ,
             whose
             darts
             of
             late
             successful
             prov'd
          
           
             In
             Pythons
             death
             ,
             expected
             to
             be
             lov'd
             .
          
           
             And
             had
             she
             not
             withstood
             blind
             Cupids
             pow'r
             ,
          
           
             The
             siery
             steeds
             and
             hea'vn
             had
             been
             her
             dow'r
             .
          
           
             But
             she
             by
             her
             refusal
             more
             obtain'd
             ,
          
           
             And
             losing
             him
             ,
             immortal
             honour
             gain'd
             .
          
           
             Cherish'd
             by
             thee
             Apollo
             .
             Temples
             wear
          
           
             The
             Bays
             ,
             and
             ev'ry
             clam'rous
             Theater
             .
          
           
             The
             Capitol
             it self
             ;
             and
             the
             proud
             gate
          
           
             Of
             great
             
               Tarpeian
               Love
            
             they
             celebrate
             .
          
           
             Into
             the
             Delphick
             Rites
             ,
             the
             Stars
             they
             dive
             ,
          
           
             And
             all
             the
             hidden
             laws
             of
             Fate
             perceive
             .
          
           
           
             They
             in
             the
             field
             (
             where
             death
             ,
             and
             danger
             's
             found
             ;
          
           
             Where
             clashing
             Arms
             ,
             (
             and
             louder
             Trumpets
             sound
             )
          
           
             Incite
             true
             courage
             :
             hence
             the
             Bays
             ,
             each
             Muse
             ,
          
           
             Th'
             inspiring
             God
             ,
             and
             all
             good
             Poets
             chuse
             .
          
        
         
           
             
               Persian
               Ligustrum
            
             grows
             among
             the
             rest
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             azure
             flowers
             imitate
             the
             Crest
          
           
             Of
             an
             Exotick
             Fowl
             ;
             they
             first
             appear
          
           
             When
             the
             warm
             Sun
             ,
             and
             kinder
             Spring
             draws
             near
             .
          
           
             Then
             the
             green
             leaves
             upon
             the
             boughs
             depend
             ,
          
           
             And
             sweet
             Perfumes
             into
             the
             air
             ascend
             .
          
        
         
           
             Pomegranates
             next
             their
             glory
             vindicate
             ;
          
           
             Their
             boughs
             in
             gardens
             pleasing
             charms
             create
             .
          
           
           
             Nothing
             their
             flaming
             Purple
             can
             exceed
             ,
          
           
             From
             the
             green
             leaf
             the
             golden
             flow'rs
             proceed
             :
          
           
             Whose
             splendor
             ,
             and
             the
             various
             curls
             they
             yield
             ,
          
           
             Add
             more
             then
             usual
             beauty
             to
             the
             field
             .
          
           
             As
             soon
             as
             e're
             the
             flowers
             fade
             away
             ,
          
           
             Yet
             to
             preserve
             their
             lustre
             from
             decay
             ,
          
           
             To
             them
             the
             fruit
             succeeds
             ,
             which
             in
             a
             round
          
           
             Conforms
             it self
             ,
             whose
             top
             is
             ever
             crown'd
          
           
             In
             seats
             apart
             ,
             stain'd
             with
             the
             Tyrian
             dye
             ,
          
           
             A
             thousand
             seeds
             within
             in
             order
             lye
             .
          
           
             Thus
             ,
             when
             industrious
             Bees
             do
             undertake
          
           
             To
             raise
             a
             waxen
             Empire
             ,
             first
             they
             make
          
           
             Rooms
             for
             their
             honey
             in
             divided
             rows
             ;
          
           
             And
             last
             of
             all
             ,
             on
             twigs
             the
             Combs
             dispose
             .
          
           
             So
             ev'ry
             seed
             a
             narrow
             cell
             contains
             ,
          
           
             Made
             of
             hard
             skin
             ,
             which
             all
             the
             frame
             sustains
             .
          
           
           
             Neither
             to
             sharp
             or
             sweet
             the
             seeds
             incline
          
           
             Too
             much
             ,
             but
             in
             one
             mixture
             both
             conjoyn
             .
          
        
         
           
             From
             whence
             this
             Crown
             ,
             this
             Tincture
             is
             deriv'd
             ,
          
           
             We
             now
             relate
             ;
             the
             Nymph
             in
             Africk
             liv'd
             :
          
           
             Descended
             from
             the
             old
             Numidians
             Race
             ,
          
           
             Beauty
             enough
             adorn'd
             her
             swarthy
             face
             ;
          
           
             As
             much
             as
             that
             tann'd
             Nation
             can
             admit
             ,
          
           
             Too
             much
             ,
             unless
             her
             stars
             had
             equall'd
             it
             .
          
           
             Mov'd
             by
             ambition
             she
             desir'd
             to
             know
          
           
             What
             e're
             the
             Priests
             or
             Oracles
             could
             show
          
           
             Of
             things
             to
             come
             ,
             a
             Kingdom
             they
             dispense
          
           
             In
             words
             including
             an
             ambiguous
             sense
             .
          
           
             She
             thought
             a
             crown
             no
             less
             had
             signifi'd
             ,
          
           
             But
             in
             the
             Priests
             she
             did
             in
             vain
             confide
             .
          
           
             When
             Bacchus
             th'
             Author
             of
             the
             fruitful
             Vine
          
           
             From
             India
             came
             ,
             her
             for
             his
             Concubine
          
           
           
             He
             takes
             ;
             and
             to
             repair
             her
             honour
             lost
             ,
          
           
             Presents
             her
             with
             a
             Crown
             ;
             by
             fate
             thus
             crost
             ,
          
           
             The
             too
             ambitious
             Virgin
             ceas'd
             to
             be
             ;
          
           
             Transmitting
             her
             own
             beauty
             to
             this
             Tree
             .
          
        
         
           
             Sharp
             
               Paliurus
               ,
               Rhamnus
            
             ,
             (
             which
             by
             some
          
           
             Is
             White-thorn
             term'd
             )
             your
             Garden
             will
             become
             .
          
           
             There
             leavy
             
               Caprifoil
               ,
               Alcaea
            
             too
             ,
          
           
             Th'
             Idaean
             Bush
             ,
             and
             Halimus
             may
             grow
             .
          
           
             Woody
             
               Acanthus
               ;
               Ruscus
            
             there
             may
             spring
             ,
          
           
             With
             other
             Shrubs
             ,
             these
             skilful
             Gard'ners
             bring
          
           
             Into
             a
             thousand
             forms
             ;
             but
             't
             is
             not
             fit
          
           
             To
             tell
             their
             Species
             almost
             infinite
             .
          
        
         
           
             From
             brighter
             woods
             the
             prospect
             may
             descend
          
           
             Into
             your
             Garden
             ,
             there
             it self
             extend
          
           
           
             In
             spacious
             walks
             ,
             divided
             equally
             ,
          
           
             Where
             the
             same
             angles
             in
             all
             parts
             agree
             ,
          
           
             In
             oblique
             windings
             others
             plant
             their
             Groves
             ,
          
           
             For
             ev'ry
             man
             a
             diff'rent
             figure
             loves
             .
          
           
             Thus
             the
             same
             paths
             ,
             respecting
             still
             their
             bound
          
           
             In
             various
             tracts
             diffuse
             themselves
             around
             .
          
           
             Whether
             your
             walks
             are
             strait
             ,
             or
             crooked
             made
             ,
          
           
             Let
             gravel
             ,
             or
             green
             turf
             be
             on
             them
             laid
             .
          
           
             The
             Nymphs
             and
             Matrons
             then
             in
             woods
             may
             meet
             ,
          
           
             There
             walk
             ,
             and
             to
             refresh
             their
             weary'd
             feet
             ,
          
           
             Into
             their
             Chariots
             mount
             ,
             though
             to
             the
             young
          
           
             Labour
             and
             exercise
             does
             more
             belong
             .
          
        
         
           
             If
             close-shorn
             Phylliraea
             you
             deduce
          
           
             Into
             a
             hedge
             ,
             for
             knots
             the
             Carpine
             use
             ;
          
           
           
             Or
             into
             Arbors
             with
             a
             hollow
             back
             ,
          
           
             The
             pliant
             twigs
             of
             soft
             Acanthus
             make
             .
          
           
             With
             stronger
             wires
             the
             flowing
             branches
             bind
             .
          
           
             For
             if
             the
             boughs
             by
             nothing
             are
             confin'd
             ,
          
           
             The
             Tonsile
             Hedge
             no
             longer
             will
             excell
             ;
          
           
             But
             uncontroll'd
             beyond
             its
             limits
             swell
             .
          
           
             And
             since
             the
             lawless
             Grass
             will
             oft
             invade
          
           
             The
             neighb'ring
             walks
             ,
             repress
             th'
             aspiring
             blade
          
           
             Suffer
             no
             grass
             ,
             or
             rugged
             dirt
             t'
             impair
          
           
             Your
             smoother
             paths
             ;
             but
             to
             the
             Gard'ners
             care
          
           
             These
             things
             we
             leave
             ;
             they
             are
             his
             business
             ,
          
           
             With
             setting
             flow'rs
             ,
             and
             planting
             fruitful
             trees
             .
          
           
             And
             with
             the
             master
             let
             the
             servants
             joyn
             ,
          
           
             With
             him
             their
             willing
             hearts
             and
             hands
             combine
             :
          
           
             Some
             should
             with
             rowlers
             tame
             the
             yielding
             ground
             ,
          
           
             Making
             it
             plain
             ,
             where
             ruder
             clods
             abound
             .
          
           
           
             Some
             may
             fit
             moisture
             to
             your
             Meadows
             give
             ,
          
           
             And
             to
             the
             Plants
             and
             Garden
             may
             derive
          
           
             Refreshing
             streams
             ;
             let
             others
             sweep
             away
          
           
             The
             fallen
             leaves
             ;
             mend
             hedges
             that
             decay
             ;
          
           
             Cut
             off
             superfluous
             boughs
             ;
             or
             with
             a
             Spade
          
           
             Find
             where
             the
             Moles
             their
             winding
             nests
             have
             made
             ;
          
           
             Then
             close
             them
             up
             :
             Another
             flow'rs
             may
             sow
          
           
             In
             beds
             prepar'd
             ;
             on
             all
             some
             task
             hestow
             :
          
           
             That
             if
             the
             Master
             happens
             to
             come
             down
             ,
          
           
             To
             fly
             the
             smoak
             and
             clamour
             of
             the
             Town
             ;
          
           
             He
             in
             his
             Villa
             none
             may
             idle
             find
             ,
          
           
             But
             secret
             joys
             may
             please
             his
             wearied
             mind
             .
          
        
         
           
             And
             blest
             is
             he
             ,
             who
             tir'd
             with
             his
             affairs
             ,
          
           
             Far
             from
             all
             noise
             ,
             all
             vain
             applause
             ,
             prepares
          
           
             To
             go
             ,
             and
             underneath
             some
             silent
             shade
             ,
          
           
             Which
             neither
             cares
             nor
             anxious
             thoughts
             invade
             ,
          
           
           
           
           
           
           
             Do's
             ,
             for
             a
             while
             ,
             himselfe
             alone
             possess
             ;
          
           
             Changing
             the
             Town
             for
             Rural
             happiness
             .
          
           
             He
             ,
             when
             the
             Suns
             hot
             steeds
             to
             th'
             Ocean
             hast
             ,
          
           
             Ere
             sable
             night
             the
             world
             ha's
             over-cast
             ,
          
           
             May
             from
             the
             hills
             the
             fields
             below
             descry
             ,
          
           
             At
             once
             diverting
             both
             his
             mind
             and
             eye
             .
          
           
             Or
             if
             he
             please
             ,
             into
             the
             woods
             may
             stray
             ,
          
           
             Listen
             to
             th'
             Birds
             ,
             which
             sing
             at
             break
             of
             day
             :
          
           
             Or
             ,
             when
             the
             Cattle
             come
             from
             pasture
             ,
             hear
          
           
             The
             bellowing
             Oxe
             ,
             the
             hollow
             Valleys
             tear
          
           
             With
             his
             hoarse
             voice
             :
             Sometimes
             his
             flow'rs
             invite
             :
          
           
             The
             Fountains
             too
             are
             worthy
             of
             his
             sight
             .
          
           
             To
             ev'ry
             part
             he
             may
             his
             care
             extend
             ,
          
           
             And
             these
             delights
             all
             others
             so
             transcend
             ,
          
           
             That
             we
             the
             City
             now
             no
             more
             respect
             ,
          
           
             Or
             the
             vain
             honours
             of
             the
             Court
             affect
             .
          
           
           
             But
             to
             cool
             Streams
             ,
             to
             aged
             Groves
             retire
             ,
          
           
             And
             th'
             unmix'd
             pleasures
             of
             the
             fields
             desire
             .
          
           
             Making
             our
             beds
             upon
             the
             grassie
             bank
             ,
          
           
             For
             which
             no
             art
             ,
             but
             nature
             we
             must
             thank
             .
          
           
             No
             Marble
             Pillars
             ,
             no
             proud
             Pavements
             there
             ,
          
           
             No
             Galleries
             ,
             or
             fretted
             Roofs
             appear
             ,
          
           
             The
             modest
             rooms
             to
             India
             nothing
             owe
             ;
          
           
             Nor
             Gold
             ,
             nor
             Ivory
             ,
             nor
             Arras
             know
             :
          
           
             Thus
             liv'd
             our
             Ancestors
             ,
             when
             Saturn
             reign'd
             ,
          
           
             While
             the
             first
             Oracles
             in
             Okes
             remain'd
             ,
          
           
             A
             harmless
             course
             of
             life
             they
             did
             pursue
             ;
          
           
             And
             nought
             beyond
             their
             hills
             their
             Rivers
             knew
             .
          
           
             Rome
             had
             not
             yet
             the
             Universe
             ingrost
             ,
          
           
             Her
             Seven
             Hills
             few
             Triumphs
             then
             could
             boast
             .
          
           
             Small
             herds
             then
             graz'd
             in
             the
             Laurenitne
             Mead
             ;
          
           
             Nor
             many
             more
             th'
             Arician
             Valleys
             feed
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             Of
             Rural
             Ornaments
             ,
             of
             Woods
             much
             more
          
           
             I
             could
             relate
             ,
             then
             what
             I
             have
             before
             :
          
           
             But
             what
             's
             unfinish'd
             my
             next
             care
             requires
             ,
          
           
             And
             my
             tir'd
             Bark
             the
             neighb'ring
             Port
             desires
             .
          
        
      
       
         
         
           RAPINUS
           OF
           GARDENS
           .
        
         
           Book
           III.
           WATER
           .
        
         
           
             OF
             pleasant
             Flouds
             ,
             and
             Streams
             ,
             my
             Muse
             now
             sings
             ,
          
           
             Of
             Chrystal
             Lakes
             ,
             Grotts
             ,
             and
             transparent
             Springs
             .
          
           
             By
             these
             a
             Garden
             is
             more
             charming
             made
             ,
          
           
             They
             chiefly
             beautifie
             the
             Rural
             Shade
             .
          
           
           
             To
             me
             ye
             River-gods
             ,
             your
             influence
             give
             ,
          
           
             If
             Deities
             in
             Springs
             ,
             in
             Rivers
             live
             .
          
        
         
           
             Into
             the
             secret
             caverns
             of
             the
             earth
             ,
          
           
             Where
             these
             perennial
             waters
             have
             their
             birth
             ,
          
           
             I
             now
             descend
             ;
             as
             well
             to
             know
             the
             source
             ,
          
           
             As
             to
             explore
             which
             way
             they
             take
             their
             course
             .
          
           
             To
             learn
             where
             all
             this
             liquid
             Treasure
             lies
             ,
          
           
             And
             whence
             the
             Channels
             still
             have
             fresh
             supplies
             .
          
        
         
           
             Wherefore
             let
             those
             who
             would
             instructed
             be
          
           
             In
             Aquaeducts
             ,
             their
             Precepts
             take
             from
             me
             .
          
           
             Into
             th'
             unskilful
             Gard'ner
             I
             'le
             infufe
          
           
             What
             may
             be
             ornamental
             ,
             what
             of
             use
             .
          
           
             You
             then
             who
             would
             your
             Villa's
             grace
             augment
          
           
             And
             on
             its
             honour
             always
             are
             intent
             :
          
           
           
             You
             who
             employ
             your
             time
             to
             cultivate
          
           
             Your
             Gardens
             ,
             and
             to
             make
             their
             glory
             great
             :
          
           
             Among
             your
             groves
             and
             flow'rs
             let
             water
             flow
             ;
          
           
             Water
             ,
             the
             soul
             of
             groves
             and
             slow'rs
             too
             .
          
           
             He
             that
             intends
             to
             do
             as
             I
             direct
             ,
          
           
             Must
             in
             the
             Vales
             the
             scatter'd
             flouds
             collect
             .
          
           
             He
             into
             th'bowels
             of
             the
             earth
             must
             dive
             ,
          
           
             To
             find
             out
             Springs
             ,
             which
             may
             the
             fields
             revive
             ,
          
           
             All
             parch'd
             and
             dry
             ;
             for
             else
             ,
             within
             a
             while
             .
          
           
             No
             grass
             will
             live
             upon
             the
             thirsty
             Soyl.
          
           
             Nor
             is
             it
             hard
             to
             do
             what
             you
             desire
             ,
          
           
             If
             on
             the
             neighb'ring
             Hills
             some
             Rock
             aspire
             ;
          
           
             For
             in
             such
             places
             waters
             always
             flow
             ,
          
           
             From
             whence
             you
             may
             refresh
             the
             Meads
             belows
          
           
           
             Thus
             the
             swift
             Loir
             ,
             the
             Rhine
             ,
             and
             the
             Garonne
             ,
          
           
             Parisian
             Sein
             ,
             the
             Sealdis
             ,
             
               and
               the
            
             Rhone
             ;
          
           
             The
             mighty
             Danube
             too
             ,
             and
             almost
             all
          
           
             The
             streams
             in
             nature
             from
             the
             mountains
             fall
             .
          
           
             Whether
             some
             space
             be
             in
             the
             hollow
             Caves
             ,
          
           
             Made
             for
             a
             receptacle
             of
             the
             Waves
             ;
          
           
             Or
             that
             the
             vital
             air
             no
             sooner
             feels
          
           
             Th'
             included
             cold
             ,
             but
             it
             as
             soon
             distills
          
           
             Into
             small
             Brooks
             ;
             thus
             the
             warm
             Caverns
             sweat
          
           
             Such
             humid
             drops
             ,
             as
             when
             the
             season
             's
             wet
             ,
          
           
             And
             winter
             has
             obscur'd
             the
             air
             again
             ,
          
           
             From
             marble
             pillars
             are
             observ'd
             to
             drain
             .
          
           
             With
             dewy
             moisture
             lofty
             Cliffs
             abound
             ,
          
           
             All
             places
             weep
             perhaps
             into
             the
             ground
             ,
          
           
           
             And
             through
             the
             hills
             ,
             help'd
             by
             the
             Rain
             and
             Snows
             ,
          
           
             The
             water
             runs
             ,
             still
             sinking
             at
             it
             goes
             .
          
           
             Till
             forc'd
             for
             want
             of
             room
             ,
             it
             then
             disdains
          
           
             More
             narrow
             bounds
             ,
             insulting
             o're
             the
             Plains
             .
          
        
         
           
             Those
             before
             others
             should
             our
             credit
             gain
             ,
          
           
             Who
             would
             deduce
             all
             Fountains
             from
             the
             Main
             :
          
           
             Whose
             boundless
             waves
             the
             Universe
             embrace
             ,
          
           
             And
             penetrate
             into
             each
             vacant
             space
             ,
          
           
             Each
             cranny
             of
             the
             earth
             ;
             as
             in
             our
             veins
          
           
             That
             active
             bloud
             which
             humane
             life
             sustains
             ,
          
           
             Is
             always
             mov'd
             ,
             so
             th'
             Ocean
             circulates
             ,
          
           
             And
             into
             ev'ry
             part
             it self
             dilates
             .
          
           
             Hence
             ,
             though
             all
             rivers
             to
             the
             Ocean
             hast
             ,
          
           
             And
             in
             its
             depth
             are
             swallow'd
             up
             at
             last
             :
          
           
           
             Yet
             these
             additions
             make
             it
             not
             run
             o're
             ,
          
           
             Or
             violate
             the
             limits
             of
             the
             shore
             .
          
           
             Nor
             is
             the
             ground
             so
             close
             together
             knit
             ,
          
           
             But
             that
             its
             Pores
             and
             Caverns
             will
             admit
          
           
             The
             subtle
             waves
             ,
             which
             sinking
             by
             degrees
             ,
          
           
             Descend
             into
             its
             deep
             Concavities
             .
          
           
             When
             uncontroll'd
             ,
             they
             gently
             take
             their
             course
             ;
          
           
             But
             if
             disturb'd
             ,
             they
             make
             their
             way
             by
             force
             .
          
           
             Where
             frequent
             clefts
             the
             gaping
             earth
             divide
             ,
          
           
             The
             waters
             there
             in
             greater
             plenty
             slide
             .
          
           
             Thus
             too
             fresh
             streams
             do
             from
             the
             sea
             proceed
             ,
          
           
             Which
             of
             their
             native
             Salt
             are
             wholly
             freed
             .
          
           
             They
             through
             the
             sand
             ,
             and
             crook'd
             Maeanders
             stray
             ,
          
           
             And
             through
             uneven
             places
             force
             their
             way
             ,
          
           
           
             Strain'd
             by
             their
             soyls
             ,
             through
             which
             they
             are
             convai'd
             ,
          
           
             They
             lose
             that
             brackishness
             which
             once
             theyhad
          
        
         
           
             No
             taste
             ,
             no
             other
             colour
             water
             knows
             ,
          
           
             But
             what
             alone
             its
             mother
             Earth
             bestows
             .
          
           
             For
             she
             alone
             distinguishes
             its
             end
             ;
          
           
             By
             causing
             it
             to
             heal
             ,
             or
             to
             offend
             .
          
           
             Borbon
             and
             Pugia
             such
             Springs
             produce
             ,
          
           
             Which
             borrow
             from
             the
             ground
             a
             wholesome
             juyce
             .
          
           
             By
             drinking
             them
             ,
             diseases
             reign
             no
             more
             ,
          
           
             To
             dying
             men
             they
             welcom
             health
             restore
             :
          
           
             The
             Gods
             in
             nothing
             more
             their
             pow'r
             declare
             ,
          
           
             In
             nothing
             more
             we
             may
             discern
             their
             care
             .
          
        
         
           
             What
             need
             of
             drugs
             ?
             what
             use
             of
             Medicine
             ?
          
           
             Pains
             cannot
             ,
             dare
             not
             conquer
             aids
             divine
             .
          
           
           
             Art
             sure
             must
             starve
             ;
             Physicians
             must
             grow
             poor
             ,
          
           
             If
             nature
             the
             decays
             of
             nature
             cure
             .
          
        
         
           
             Let
             your
             first
             labour
             be
             to
             find
             a
             Spring
             ,
          
           
             Which
             from
             the
             neighb'ring
             hillock
             you
             may
             bring
             .
          
           
             Such
             places
             seldom
             fail
             of
             these
             supplies
             ,
          
           
             Therefore
             with
             digging
             you
             must
             exercise
          
           
             The
             earth
             ,
             be
             diligent
             on
             ev'ry
             side
             :
          
           
             Then
             if
             success
             be
             to
             your
             hopes
             deny'd
             ;
          
           
             If
             heavy
             sand
             composed
             the
             glebe
             ,
             in
             vain
          
           
             You
             wish
             for
             what
             you
             never
             can
             obtain
             .
          
           
             When
             in
             their
             field
             some
             have
             for
             Fountains
             sought
             ,
          
           
             Which
             thence
             they
             to
             their
             Gardens
             would
             have
             brought
             ,
          
           
           
             I
             saw
             their
             thirsty
             wishes
             unrepaid
             ;
          
           
             While
             the
             deaf
             Gods
             neglected
             those
             who
             pray'd
             .
          
        
         
           
             Where
             the
             Medonian
             hills
             do
             lose
             their
             hight
             ,
          
           
             There
             lately
             dwell'd
             the
             greatest
             Favorite
          
           
             Fortune
             e're
             had
             ,
             the
             greatest
             France
             e're
             saw
             ,
          
           
             A
             hundred
             Plows
             his
             num'rous
             Oxen
             draw
             .
          
           
             The
             Treasures
             of
             the
             Kingdom
             he
             commands
             ,
          
           
             The
             nerves
             of
             peace
             and
             war
             were
             in
             his
             hands
             ,
          
           
             To
             be
             dispos'd
             of
             ,
             as
             the
             King
             thought
             fit
             ,
          
           
             And
             as
             the
             rules
             of
             Government
             permit
             .
          
           
             He
             on
             th'
             advantage
             of
             the
             Hill
             had
             plac'd
          
           
             A
             noble
             House
             ,
             which
             underneath
             was
             grac'd
          
           
             By
             a
             large
             Plain
             ,
             o're
             which
             it
             might
             be
             seen
          
           
             From
             Paris
             ,
             and
             the
             Countrey
             too
             between
             .
          
           
           
             No
             Gardens
             there
             ,
             no
             Woods
             were
             wanting
             found
             ,
          
           
             The
             spacious
             Prospect
             stretch'd
             it self
             around
             .
          
           
             But
             by
             the
             grassie
             banks
             no
             water
             straid
             ,
          
           
             Nor
             with
             hoarse
             murmurs
             wanton
             rivers
             plaid
             .
          
           
             The
             owner
             of
             the
             Seat
             ,
             a
             thousand
             ways
             ,
          
           
             To
             find
             out
             Springs
             beneath
             the
             earth
             essays
             .
          
           
             He
             left
             no
             means
             ,
             no
             charges
             unapply'd
             :
          
           
             All
             the
             efforts
             of
             art
             and
             labour
             try'd
             .
          
           
             Still
             his
             desire
             of
             Fountains
             did
             incerease
             ,
          
           
             And
             no
             repulses
             made
             his
             wishes
             cease
             ,
          
           
             With
             empty
             hopes
             he
             feed
             his
             longing
             mind
             ,
          
           
             And
             sought
             for
             that
             which
             he
             could
             never
             find
             .
          
           
             For
             though
             he
             left
             no
             place
             unsearch'd
             ,
             unmov'd
             ,
          
           
             Yet
             his
             attempts
             still
             unsuccessful
             prov'd
             .
          
           
             So
             hard
             it
             is
             ,
             unless
             the
             Soyl
             consent
             ,
          
           
             To
             find
             a
             Spring
             ;
             which
             done
             ,
             your
             thanks
             present
          
           
           
             To
             the
             kind
             Gods
             ,
             the
             Rural
             Pow'r
             adore
             ;
          
           
             Do
             this
             ,
             as
             I
             have
             done
             for
             you
             before
             .
          
        
         
           
             Water
             ,
             't
             is
             true
             ,
             through
             Pipes
             may
             be
             convaid
          
           
             From
             hollow
             Pits
             ;
             so
             Fountains
             oft
             are
             made
             ,
          
           
             By
             Art
             ,
             when
             Nature
             aids
             not
             our
             designs
             ,
          
           
             The
             pensile
             Machine
             to
             a
             Tunnel
             joyns
             ;
          
           
             Which
             by
             the
             motion
             of
             a
             Siphon
             straight
             ,
          
           
             The
             element
             attracts
             ,
             though
             by
             its
             weight
          
           
             It
             be
             deprest
             ;
             and
             thus
             ,
             O
             Sein
             ,
             thy
             waves
          
           
             Beneath
             Pontneuf
             ,
             the
             tall
             Samarian
             Laves
             ;
          
           
             And
             pours
             them
             out
             above
             :
             But
             let
             all
             those
             ,
          
           
             Who
             want
             these
             helps
             ,
             to
             him
             address
             their
             vows
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             arm
             ,
             whose
             voice
             alone
             can
             water
             draw
             ,
          
           
             And
             make
             obdurate
             rocks
             to
             rivers
             thaw
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             Now
             that
             success
             may
             equalize
             your
             pains
             ,
          
           
             Because
             the
             Earth
             the
             Searcher
             entertains
          
           
             With
             seeming
             hopes
             ,
             these
             cautions
             take
             from
             me
             ,
          
           
             Which
             may
             prevent
             too
             rash
             credulity
             .
          
           
             Where
             small
             declining
             hillocks
             you
             perceive
             ,
          
           
             Or
             a●
             soyl
             where
             Flags
             and
             Rushes
             live
             ,
          
           
             Where
             the
             fat
             ground
             a
             slimy
             moisture
             yields
             ,
          
           
             If
             weeds
             and
             prickly
             sedge
             o'respread
             the
             fields
             ;
          
           
             There
             hidden
             Springs
             with
             confidence
             expect
             :
          
           
             For
             sedgy
             places
             still
             to
             Springs
             direct
             .
          
           
             The
             same
             Conyza
             which
             with
             Sea-weed
             grows
             ,
          
           
             And
             Moss
             condens'd
             upon
             the
             surface
             shows
             ,
          
           
             Batrachium
             ,
             and
             Sium
             too
             express
          
           
             Unerring
             marks
             of
             neighb'ring
             streams
             .
             No
             less
          
           
             By
             reedy
             Calamint
             we
             may
             divine
             .
          
           
             But
             you
             may
             make
             the
             scatter'd
             flouds
             combine
          
           
           
             And
             though
             in
             diffrent
             hills
             they
             were
             begun
             ,
          
           
             They
             must
             united
             to
             your
             Garden
             run
             .
          
           
             If
             in
             the
             hanging
             brow
             of
             some
             near
             hill
             ,
          
           
             A
             copious
             vein
             be
             found
             ;
             then
             if
             you
             will
             ,
          
           
             You
             may
             of
             lead
             ,
             or
             earthen
             tiles
             make
             use
             ,
          
           
             And
             so
             the
             Springs
             into
             the
             Vales
             deduce
             .
          
           
             For
             where
             the
             little
             vein
             you
             would
             compell
             ,
          
           
             By
             adventitious
             waters
             still
             to
             swell
             ;
          
           
             There
             hollow
             Vaults
             of
             Slate
             do
             best
             convay
          
           
             The
             Springs
             themselves
             ,
             and
             Rains
             which
             fall
             that
             way
             .
          
           
             Th'
             adjacent
             Brooks
             which
             ran
             before
             to
             waste
             ,
          
           
             Will
             by
             degrees
             to
             these
             Inclosures
             haste
             .
          
           
             Collected
             there
             they
             soon
             the
             Channels
             fill
             ,
          
           
             Which
             will
             at
             length
             to
             larger
             currents
             swell
             .
          
           
             Next
             that
             the
             waves
             may
             unmolested
             slide
             ,
          
           
             And
             not
             through
             rough
             and
             darksom
             winding
             ,
             glide
             ;
          
           
           
             That
             you
             may
             sep'rate
             the
             gross
             sediment
             ,
          
           
             At
             distances
             with
             drains
             your
             course
             indent
             .
          
           
             For
             where
             through
             even
             ways
             the
             stream
             runs
             strong
             ,
          
           
             That
             heavy
             slime
             ,
             which
             it
             had
             forc'd
             along
             ,
          
           
             Proceeds
             ,
             till
             the
             next
             trench
             its
             course
             controlls
             ,
          
           
             Then
             intercepted
             sinks
             into
             the
             holes
             .
          
           
             Though
             under
             ground
             the
             vaulted
             channel
             goes
             ,
          
           
             Yet
             grates
             upon
             the
             top
             of
             Wells
             dispose
             ;
          
           
             Through
             which
             the
             water
             may
             its
             passage
             find
             ,
          
           
             Leaving
             the
             dirt
             and
             slimy
             mud
             behind
             .
          
           
             No
             sordid
             mire
             can
             make
             it
             now
             less
             pure
             ,
          
           
             Since
             by
             these
             means'tis
             rendred
             more
             secure
             .
          
        
         
           
             What
             if
             illustrious
             Medicea
             calls
          
           
             Arcolian
             Springs
             to
             the
             Parisian
             walls
             ?
          
           
           
             Though
             her
             endeavours
             Aquaeducts
             have
             made
             ,
          
           
             And
             murmuring
             streams
             on
             hollow
             bridges
             laid
             ?
          
           
             Yet
             such
             expences
             are
             too
             great
             sor
             me
             ,
          
           
             Nor
             with
             my
             narrow
             fortune
             can
             agree
             .
          
           
             With
             endless
             walls
             the
             stately
             Pile
             appears
             ,
          
           
             Which
             a
             proud
             row
             of
             haughty
             arches
             bears
             .
          
           
             Within
             the
             Vault
             suspended
             waters
             flow
             ,
          
           
             O're
             cloven
             hills
             ,
             and
             vales
             which
             lye
             below
             .
          
           
             For
             with
             stone-walls
             the
             distances
             are
             joyn'd
             ,
          
           
             To
             their
             extent
             the
             current
             is
             confin'd
             .
          
           
             Hence
             come
             those
             Springs
             ,
             which
             all
             the
             City
             bless
             .
          
           
             The
             Royal
             bounty
             caus'd
             this
             happiness
             .
          
           
             For
             publick
             work
             on
             publick
             souls
             depend
             ;
          
           
             To
             them
             no
             private
             fortune
             can
             pretend
             .
          
        
         
           
             Such
             benefits
             from
             them
             alone
             are
             due
             ,
          
           
             Who
             with
             their
             treasures
             have
             profuseness
             too
             .
          
           
           
             Though
             your
             estate
             be
             great
             ,
             let
             me
             advise
             ,
          
           
             That
             to
             no
             publick
             works
             you
             sacrifice
             ,
          
           
             That
             which
             your
             Fathers
             left
             :
             for
             he
             's
             to
             blame
             ,
          
           
             Who
             with
             his
             ruine
             buys
             an
             empty
             name
             .
          
           
             In
             all
             such
             enterprizes
             ruine
             lurks
             ;
          
           
             Who
             have
             not
             sunk
             themselves
             in
             Water-works
             ?
          
           
             Be
             modest
             therefore
             ,
             fly
             from
             all
             extreams
             ;
          
           
             And
             in
             canales
             of
             tile
             convay
             your
             streams
             .
          
           
             Or
             troughs
             of
             Alder
             prostrate
             on
             the
             ground
             ,
          
           
             For
             to
             this
             purpose
             they
             are
             useful
             found
             .
          
        
         
           
             But
             blest
             is
             he
             ,
             who
             can
             without
             the
             aid
          
           
             Of
             lead
             ,
             or
             tile
             ,
             or
             troughs
             of
             Alder
             made
             ,
          
           
             All
             through
             his
             Garden
             neighb'ring
             Brooks
             dispose
             ;
          
           
             Such
             as
             near
             Paris
             noble
             Bearny
             shows
             :
          
           
           
             Where
             copious
             Bivara
             the
             happy
             place
          
           
             With
             swelling
             waves
             do's
             pleasingly
             embrace
             .
          
           
             And
             such
             is
             Liancourt
             ;
             so
             we
             admire
          
           
             At
             Borguiel
             in
             Anjou
             the
             rapid
             Loire
             .
          
           
             Which
             through
             the
             wide
             Salmurian
             Vales
             and
             Meads
             ,
          
           
             It self
             with
             loud
             resounding
             murmurs
             spreads
             ;
          
           
             Abounding
             so
             with
             water
             Polycrene
             ,
          
           
             (
             If
             nature
             would
             have
             suffer'd
             it
             )
             had
             been
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             warbling
             noise
             the
             Poets
             now
             invites
             ,
          
           
             And
             the
             inspiring
             Muses
             more
             delights
             .
          
           
             Nor
             be
             offended
             lovely
             Fountain
             ,
             though
          
           
             Through
             Sancaronian
             Forrests
             thou
             dost
             go
             ;
          
           
             Though
             th'
             unkind
             earth
             affords
             no
             smoother
             way
             ,
          
           
             And
             makes
             thee
             through
             uneven
             chamberstray
             :
          
           
             Yet
             art
             thou
             welcom
             to
             Lamon
             :
             If
             so
          
           
             With
             thy
             moist
             springs
             and
             streams
             which
             ever
             flow
             ,
          
           
           
             Thou
             wouldst
             refresh
             his
             gardens
             ,
             and
             agree
          
           
             To
             wash
             sweet
             Bavillaeum
             ,
             thou
             wouldst
             be
          
           
             More
             fortunate
             ,
             thy
             Deity
             would
             seem
          
           
             The
             greatest
             then
             in
             Themis's
             esteem
             .
          
        
         
           
             For
             where
             we
             find
             a
             lib'ral
             vein
             at
             hand
             ,
          
           
             And
             can
             with
             ease
             the
             neighb'ring
             waves
             command
             ,
          
           
             'T
             is
             better
             far
             then
             Pipes
             of
             brittle
             lead
             ,
          
           
             Which
             often
             crack
             ,
             as
             oft
             the
             liquor
             shed
             .
          
           
             Besides
             confinement
             is
             an
             injury
             ;
          
           
             A
             force
             on
             water
             which
             was
             ever
             free
             .
          
        
         
           
             But
             if
             the
             place
             you
             live
             in
             be
             so
             dry
             ,
          
           
             That
             neither
             Springs
             nor
             Rivers
             they
             are
             nigh
             ;
          
           
             Then
             at
             some
             distance
             from
             your
             garden
             make
          
           
             Within
             the
             gaping
             earth
             a
             spacious
             Lake
             :
          
           
           
             That
             like
             a
             Magazine
             may
             comprehend
          
           
             Th'
             assembled
             flouds
             ,
             which
             from
             the
             hills
             descend
             ,
          
           
             And
             all
             the
             bottom
             pave
             with
             chalky
             lome
             ,
          
           
             Since
             that
             can
             best
             the
             falling
             waves
             o'recome
             .
          
        
         
           
             How
             to
             distribute
             Springs
             I
             now
             impart
             ;
          
           
             The
             means
             of
             spreading
             them
             ,
             and
             with
             what
             art
          
           
             Their
             motion
             must
             be
             gulded
             ;
             how
             restrain'd
             ;
          
           
             Your
             Gard'ner
             all
             these
             things
             must
             understand
             .
          
           
             The
             docile
             streams
             will
             any
             shape
             put
             on
             ;
          
           
             A
             thousand
             diff'rent
             courses
             they
             will
             run
             .
          
           
             All
             these
             instructions
             I
             to
             none
             refuse
             ,
          
           
             Who
             listen
             to
             the
             dictates
             of
             my
             Muse.
             
          
        
         
           
           
             If
             you
             would
             have
             your
             water
             useful
             be
             ,
          
           
             Where
             neighb'ring
             Vales
             beneath
             your
             Garden
             lye
             ,
          
           
             In
             Pipes
             of
             lead
             let
             it
             be
             closely
             penn'd
             ;
          
           
             Without
             restraint
             it
             never
             will
             ascend
             .
          
           
             Others
             do
             rather
             brazen
             Conduits
             use
             ,
          
           
             That
             the
             stiff
             mettal
             might
             more
             strength
             infuse
             ;
          
           
             To
             make
             th'
             imprison'd
             Element
             retire
             ,
          
           
             And
             then
             with
             greater
             force
             again
             aspire
             .
          
           
             But
             still
             take
             heed
             that
             the
             included
             air
          
           
             Within
             the
             Pipes
             move
             no
             intestine
             war
             :
          
           
             That
             its
             fierce
             motion
             force
             them
             not
             to
             leak
             ,
          
           
             And
             to
             get
             loose
             ,
             the
             empty
             prison
             break
             .
          
           
             Therefore
             through
             spiracles
             the
             air
             restore
             ,
          
           
             To
             those
             wide
             mansions
             it
             possest
             before
             .
          
           
             Thus
             in
             Falernian
             Cellars
             ,
             when
             the
             Wine
             ,
          
           
             Which
             is
             the
             product
             of
             that
             gen'rous
             Vine
             ,
          
           
           
             Is
             pour'd
             into
             the
             Cask
             ,
             and
             hoop't
             about
             ,
          
           
             They
             leave
             a
             vent
             to
             let
             the
             air
             go
             out
             :
          
           
             Were
             this
             undone
             ,
             the
             wine
             would
             quickly
             fly
          
           
             Through
             the
             weak
             ribs
             ,
             and
             all
             restraint
             defie
             .
          
        
         
           
             When
             in
             your
             gardens
             entrance
             you
             provide
             ,
          
           
             The
             waters
             ,
             there
             united
             ,
             to
             divide
             :
          
           
             First
             ,
             in
             the
             middle
             a
             large
             Fountain
             make
             ;
          
           
             Which
             from
             a
             narrow
             pipe
             its
             rise
             may
             take
             ,
          
           
             And
             to
             the
             air
             those
             waves
             ,
             by
             which
             't
             is
             fed
             ,
          
           
             Remit
             agen
             :
             About
             it
             raise
             a
             bed
          
           
             Of
             moss
             ,
             or
             grass
             ,
             or
             if
             you
             think
             this
             base
             ,
          
           
             With
             well-wrought
             Marble
             circle
             in
             the
             place
             .
          
           
             Statues
             of
             various
             shapes
             may
             be
             dispos'd
          
           
             About
             the
             Tube
             ;
             sometimes
             it
             is
             inclos'd
          
           
             By
             dubious
             Scylla
             ;
             or
             with
             Sea-calves
             grac'd
             ;
          
           
             Or
             by
             a
             brazen
             Triton
             't
             is
             embrac'd
             .
          
           
           
             A
             Triton
             thus
             at
             Luxembourg
             presides
             ,
          
           
             And
             from
             the
             Dolphin
             ,
             which
             he
             proudly
             ricles
             .
          
           
             Spouts
             out
             the
             streams
             :
             This
             place
             ,
             though
             beautisied
          
           
             With
             Marble
             round
             ,
             though
             from
             Arcueill
             supply'd
             ;
          
           
             Yet
             to
             Saint
             Cloud
             must
             yield
             in
             this
             out-shin'd
             ,
          
           
             That
             there
             the
             
               Hostel
               d'Orleans
            
             we
             find
             .
          
           
             The
             little
             Town
             ,
             the
             Groves
             before
             scarce
             known
             ,
          
           
             Enabled
             thus
             ,
             will
             now
             give
             place
             to
             none
             .
          
           
             So
             great
             an
             owner
             any
             seat
             improves
             ;
          
           
             One
             whom
             the
             King
             ,
             one
             whom
             the
             people
             loves
             .
          
        
         
           
             This
             Garden
             ,
             as
             a
             Pattern
             ,
             may
             be
             shown
          
           
             To
             those
             who
             would
             adde
             beauty
             to
             their
             own
             .
          
           
           
             All
             other
             Fountains
             this
             so
             far
             transcends
             ,
          
           
             That
             none
             in
             France
             besides
             with
             it
             contends
             .
          
           
             None
             so
             much
             plenty
             yields
             ;
             none
             flows
             so
             high
             ,
          
           
             A
             Gulf
             ,
             i'
             th'
             middle
             of
             the
             Pond
             do'slye
             ,
          
           
             In
             which
             a
             swollen
             tunnel
             opens
             wide
             ;
          
           
             Through
             hissing
             chinks
             the
             waters
             freely
             slide
             ;
          
           
             And
             in
             their
             passage
             like
             a
             whirlwind
             move
             ,
          
           
             With
             rapid
             force
             into
             the
             air
             above
             ;
          
           
             As
             if
             a
             watry
             dart
             were
             upward
             thrown
             .
          
           
             But
             when
             these
             haughty
             waves
             do
             once
             fall
             down
             ,
          
           
             Resounding
             loud
             ,
             they
             on
             each
             other
             beat
             ,
          
           
             And
             with
             a
             dewy
             show'r
             the
             Basin
             wet
             .
          
        
         
           
             How
             Fountains
             first
             had
             being
             now
             I
             tell
             ;
          
           
             If
             any
             truth
             in
             ancient
             stories
             dwell
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             Hard
             by
             the
             Phasian
             Bank
             ,
             with
             prosp'rous
             Gales
             ,
          
           
             Arm'd
             with
             his
             Club
             ,
             while
             great
             Alcides
             sails
             ;
          
           
             A
             band
             of
             Argian
             youth
             was
             with
             him
             sent
             ,
          
           
             And
             among
             them
             his
             dearest
             Hylas
             went.
          
           
             Near
             old
             Ascanius
             in
             Bithynia
             stood
          
           
             A
             lofty
             Grove
             of
             Beech
             :
             as
             by
             this
             Wood
          
           
             The
             swift
             Bank
             sayls
             ,
             the
             weary
             Minyae
             land
             ,
          
           
             And
             stretch
             their
             limbs
             on
             the
             inviting
             Sand.
          
           
             The
             nimble
             Favourite
             now
             goes
             in
             quest
          
           
             Of
             hidden
             Springs
             ,
             and
             wanders
             from
             the
             rest
             ;
          
           
             With
             travel
             tir'd
             he
             comes
             to
             one
             at
             last
             ,
          
           
             Straight
             from
             his
             shoulders
             on
             the
             grass
             he
             cast
          
           
             The
             weighty
             Pitcher
             which
             they
             hither
             bore
             ;
          
           
             And
             for
             refreshment
             sits
             upon
             the
             shore
             .
          
           
             Ascanius
             had
             invited
             to
             a
             feast
          
           
             The
             neighb'ring
             Nymphs
             ,
             fair
             Isis
             thither
             prest
             ,
          
           
           
             With
             graceful
             Ephyra
             ,
             th'
             Inachian
             Dame
             ,
          
           
             And
             
               Lycaonian
               Melanina
            
             came
             .
          
           
             The
             Rural
             ,
             and
             the
             River-Nymphs
             were
             here
             ,
          
           
             And
             none
             were
             absent
             ,
             whose
             abodes
             were
             near
             .
          
           
             The
             Charms
             of
             
               Hylus
               Isis
            
             first
             surprize
             ;
          
           
             His
             features
             she
             admires
             ;
             his
             sparkling
             eyes
             ,
          
           
             On
             the
             green
             turf
             the
             weary
             youth
             repos'd
             :
          
           
             Now
             all
             her
             artifices
             she
             disclos'd
             ;
          
           
             She
             uses
             all
             th'
             Artillery
             of
             Love
             ,
          
           
             All
             that
             could
             pity
             or
             affection
             move
             ;
          
           
             And
             though
             she
             saw
             but
             little
             cause
             ,
             so
             vain
          
           
             All
             Lovers
             are
             ,
             she
             hop'd
             he
             lov'd
             again
             .
          
           
             While
             he
             by
             stooping
             to
             draw
             water
             strives
             ,
          
           
             Either
             the
             slipp'ry
             bank
             his
             foot
             deceives
             ;
          
           
             Or
             by
             the
             vessels
             weight
             too
             much
             opprest
             ,
          
           
             He
             tumbles
             in
             ;
             to
             succour
             the
             distrest
          
           
             Kind
             Isis
             soon
             approch'd
             ;
             the
             offer'd
             aid
          
           
             Not
             with
             acceptance
             ,
             but
             with
             scorn
             he
             paid
             .
          
           
           
             Th'
             assisting
             waves
             he
             scatters
             in
             the
             wind
             ,
          
           
             And
             wrestles
             with
             that
             stream
             which
             would
             be
             kind
             .
          
           
             Now
             all
             the
             other
             Nymphs
             their
             pray'rs
             unite
             ,
          
           
             And
             to
             the
             room
             with
             Pumice
             arch'd
             invite
          
           
             The
             sullen
             boy
             ;
             there
             promise
             he
             shall
             be
             ,
          
           
             As
             he
             deserv'd
             ,
             a
             liquid
             Deity
             .
          
           
             Resusing
             still
             ,
             his
             arms
             now
             wearied
             lose
          
           
             Their
             strength
             ,
             and
             he
             a
             sacred
             Fountain
             grows
             .
          
           
             To
             which
             the
             Nymph
             indulging
             her
             revenge
             ,
          
           
             (
             For
             Love
             repuls'd
             to
             cruelty
             will
             change
             )
          
           
             Designs
             still
             proud
             ,
             a
             lofty
             Genius
             gave
             ,
          
           
             That
             it
             by
             nature
             might
             a
             diff'rence
             have
          
           
             From
             other
             water
             ;
             always
             might
             aspire
             ,
          
           
             Always
             ,
             in
             vain
             ,
             to
             be
             more
             high
             desire
             .
          
           
             A
             copious
             fall
             its
             ruine
             hastens
             on
             ;
          
           
             And
             by
             its
             own
             ambition
             't
             is
             undone
             .
          
           
           
             Mean
             while
             Alcides
             all
             along
             the
             Coast
             ,
          
           
             Vainly
             enquires
             for
             him
             whom
             he
             had
             lost
             :
          
        
         
           
             Th'
             Ascanian
             Shores
             ,
             the
             hills
             his
             name
             resound
             ,
          
           
             The
             Rocks
             and
             Woods
             of
             Hylas
             eccho
             round
             .
          
           
             Hylas
             ,
             whose
             change
             alone
             was
             the
             first
             cause
             ,
          
           
             That
             water
             rises
             against
             natures
             laws
             .
          
           
             Thus
             he
             ,
             who
             the
             embrace
             of
             Isis
             flies
             ,
          
           
             Was
             punish'd
             by
             that
             Nymph
             he
             did
             despise
             .
          
        
         
           
             Hence
             spouting
             streams
             in
             verdant
             Groves
             we
             see
             ,
          
           
             And
             noble
             Gardens
             to
             a
             luxury
             ,
          
           
             By
             Art
             diversify'd
             :
             for
             pow'rful
             Art
          
           
             To
             the
             ambitious
             water
             can
             impart
          
           
             Such
             diff
             rent
             shapes
             ,
             as
             great
             Ruel
             can
             boast
             ,
          
           
             Where
             glorious
             Richlieu
             with
             excessive
             cost
             ,
          
           
           
             And
             pains
             ,
             the
             waves
             into
             subjection
             brings
             ;
          
           
             And
             still
             survives
             in
             Monumental
             Springs
             .
          
           
             All
             this
             he
             did
             ,
             while
             he
             ,
             not
             Lewis
             raign'd
             ,
          
           
             And
             
             Atlas-like
             the
             tott'ring
             State
             sustain'd
             .
          
           
             Here
             variously
             dispos'd
             the
             Fountains
             run
             ,
          
           
             First
             head-long
             fall
             ,
             then
             rise
             where
             they
             begun
             .
          
           
             Receive
             all
             forms
             ,
             and
             move
             on
             ev'ry
             side
             ;
          
           
             With
             horrid
             noise
             ,
             Chimaera
             gaping
             wide
             ,
          
           
             Out
             of
             her
             open
             mouth
             the
             water
             throws
             .
          
           
             For
             from
             her
             mouth
             a
             rapid
             torrent
             flows
             ,
          
           
             From
             her
             wide
             throat
             ,
             as
             waves
             in
             circles
             spout
             ,
          
           
             A
             Serpent
             turning
             sprinkles
             all
             the
             rout
             .
          
           
             A
             brazen
             Hunter
             watchfully
             attends
             ;
          
           
             And
             threatning
             death
             the
             crooked
             tunnel
             bends
             .
          
           
             Instead
             of
             shot
             ,
             thence
             pearly
             drops
             proceed
             ;
          
           
             Drops
             not
             so
             fatal
             as
             if
             made
             of
             Lead
             .
          
           
           
             This
             soon
             the
             laughter
             of
             the
             vulgar
             moves
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             acclamation
             the
             deceit
             approves
             .
          
        
         
           
             But
             why
             should
             I
             repeat
             how
             many
             ways
          
           
             In
             the
             deep
             Caves
             Art
             with
             the
             water
             plays
             ?
          
           
             The
             place
             grows
             moist
             with
             artificial
             Rain
             ,
          
           
             And
             hissing
             Springs
             ,
             which
             here
             burst
             out
             amain
             .
          
           
             Rebounding
             high
             ,
             streams
             ev'ry
             where
             sweat
             through
             ,
          
           
             And
             with
             great
             drops
             the
             hanging
             stones
             bedew
             .
          
           
             They
             who
             the
             Grotts
             ,
             and
             Fountains
             over-see
             ,
          
           
             May
             as
             they
             please
             the
             streams
             diversifie
             .
          
           
             Though
             the
             kind
             Naiades
             comply
             with
             those
             ,
          
           
             Who
             when
             they
             Grotts
             of
             Pebble
             do
             compose
             ,
          
           
             And
             Springs
             bring
             in
             ,
             still
             beautifie
             the
             Cells
             ,
          
           
             With
             Eastern
             stones
             ,
             or
             Erythraean
             shells
             .
          
           
             Others
             of
             hollow
             Pumice
             may
             be
             made
             ,
          
           
             And
             well-plac'd
             shells
             may
             on
             the
             top
             be
             laid
             .
          
           
           
             But
             all
             these
             arts
             ,
             which
             modern
             ages
             own
             ,
          
           
             Were
             to
             our
             happy
             ancestors
             unknown
             .
          
           
             These
             sights
             must
             be
             expos'd
             to
             th'
             peoples
             view
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             greedy
             eyes
             such
             novelties
             pursue
             .
          
        
         
           
             To
             serious
             things
             you
             must
             your self
             apply
             ,
          
           
             And
             water
             love
             in
             greater
             quantity
             :
          
           
             Learn
             how
             to
             manage
             it
             when
             it
             falls
             down
             ,
          
           
             Either
             that
             like
             a
             River
             it
             may
             crown
          
           
             The
             deeper
             brims
             of
             some
             capacious
             Lake
             ;
          
           
             Or
             the
             resemblance
             of
             a
             Pond
             may
             make
             .
          
           
             The
             tube
             ,
             if
             wide
             enough
             ,
             may
             more
             contain
             ,
          
           
             And
             at
             a
             distance
             render
             it
             again
             .
          
           
             Plenty
             in
             Fountains
             always
             graceful
             shows
             ,
          
           
             And
             greatest
             beauty
             from
             abundance
             flows
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             Nor
             is
             the
             spout
             of
             water
             to
             be
             pois'd
          
           
             One
             way
             ,
             or
             in
             one
             form
             to
             be
             compriz'd
             ,
          
           
             It
             must
             be
             varied
             ,
             if
             you
             pleasure
             seek
             .
          
           
             Some
             from
             divided
             streams
             make
             showers
             break
             .
          
           
             The
             Solar
             Rays
             and
             Light
             some
             represent
             ;
          
           
             Or
             from
             a
             twanging
             Bow
             swift
             arrows
             sent
             ;
          
           
             Others
             in
             waves
             from
             Precipices
             cast
             ,
          
           
             More
             pleasure
             take
             ;
             then
             rap't
             about
             as
             fast
             ,
          
           
             In
             little
             they
             Charybdie
             imitats
             ,
          
           
             Which
             so
             indangers
             the
             Sicilan
             Straight
             .
          
           
             As
             in
             the
             bubling
             brass
             ,
             o're
             rustling
             fires
             ,
          
           
             Hot
             liquor
             boils
             ,
             the
             water
             so
             aspires
             .
          
        
         
           
             Where
             it
             abounds
             ,
             the
             current
             ,
             there
             divide
          
           
             Into
             small
             brooks
             ,
             which
             o're
             the
             fields
             may
             glide
             .
          
           
             And
             into
             ponds
             these
             brooks
             must
             fall
             at
             last
             ;
          
           
             Lest
             the
             best
             Element
             should
             run
             to
             wast
             .
          
           
           
             Now
             learn
             how
             art
             restrains
             the
             wandring
             flood
             ,
          
           
             And
             at
             due
             distance
             makes
             it
             spread
             abroad
             .
          
           
             Though
             to
             its
             nat'ral
             course
             the
             stream's
             inclin'd
             ,
          
           
             And
             being
             free
             is
             hard
             to
             be
             confin'd
             ;
          
           
             Yet
             you
             may
             soon
             compell
             it
             to
             that
             course
          
           
             Which
             you
             prescribe
             ,
             and
             make
             it
             run
             by
             force
          
           
             Through
             dubious
             errours
             ;
             for
             it
             will
             delight
          
           
             To
             take
             false
             channels
             ,
             having
             lost
             the
             right
             .
          
           
             By
             frequent
             windings
             water
             thus
             is
             staid
             ,
          
           
             Till
             over
             all
             the
             field
             it
             is
             convaid
             .
          
        
         
           
             So
             Amymona's
             fabled
             to
             have
             err'd
             ,
          
           
             As
             soon
             as
             Neptunes
             passion
             she
             had
             heard
             .
          
           
             Th'
             unhappy
             Virgin
             ,
             fearing
             her
             disgrace
             ,
          
           
             Follows
             ,
             and
             flyes
             her self
             with
             equal
             pace
             ,
          
           
           
             Perhaps
             she
             had
             not
             yet
             the
             power
             to
             see
             .
          
           
             That
             she
             was
             chang'd
             by
             th'
             am'rous
             Deity
          
           
             Chang'd
             to
             a
             stream
             ;
             which
             in
             her
             footsteps
             strays
             ,
          
           
             And
             through
             Dircaean
             fields
             its
             pace
             delays
             .
          
        
         
           
             Rivers
             diffus'd
             a
             thousand
             ways
             may
             pass
             ,
          
           
             With
             hast'ning
             waves
             through
             the
             divided
             grass
             .
          
           
             Like
             sudden
             torrents
             ,
             which
             the
             rain
             gives
             head
             ,
          
           
             Through
             precipices
             some
             may
             swiftly
             spread
             ;
          
           
             And
             in
             the
             pebbles
             a
             soft
             noise
             excite
             .
          
           
             Some
             on
             the
             surface
             with
             a
             tim'rous
             flight
             ,
          
           
             May
             steal
             ;
             if
             any
             thing
             its
             speed
             retard
             ,
          
           
             Then
             its
             shrill
             murmurs
             through
             the
             fields
             are
             heard
             .
          
           
             Inrag'd
             it
             ,
             leaps
             up
             high
             ,
             and
             with
             weak
             strokes
          
           
             The
             pebbles
             ,
             which
             it
             overflows
             ,
             provokes
             .
          
           
           
             Threatning
             the
             bank
             it
             beats
             against
             the
             shore
             ,
          
           
             And
             roots
             of
             trees
             which
             froth
             all
             sprinkles
             o're
             .
          
           
             That
             slender
             brook
             ,
             from
             whence
             hoarse
             noises
             came
             ,
          
           
             Which
             as
             it
             had
             no
             substance
             ,
             had
             no
             name
             ;
          
           
             When
             other
             riv'lets
             from
             the
             Vales
             come
             in
             ,
          
           
             Th'
             ignoble
             current
             then
             will
             soon
             begin
          
           
             To
             gather
             strength
             ;
             for
             bridges
             may
             be
             fit
             ,
          
           
             And
             by
             degrees
             great
             Vessels
             will
             admit
             .
          
           
             Sometimes
             by
             grassie
             banks
             the
             River
             goes
             ;
          
           
             Sometimes
             with
             joy
             it
             skips
             upon
             green
             moss
             ;
          
           
             Sometimes
             it
             murmurs
             in
             exalted
             Groves
             ,
          
           
             And
             with
             its
             threats
             the
             narrow
             path
             reproves
             .
          
           
             Whken
             't
             is
             dispers'd
             ,
             then
             let
             the
             Meads
             be
             drown'd
             ,
          
           
             Let
             slimy
             mud
             inrich
             the
             barren
             ground
             .
          
           
             If
             it
             runs
             deep
             ,
             with
             dams
             its
             force
             restrain
             ;
          
           
             And
             from
             the
             Meadows
             noxious
             water
             drain
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             Where
             from
             their
             fountains
             rivers
             do
             break
             loose
             ,
          
           
             And
             the
             moist
             Spring
             the
             Valleys
             overflows
             ;
          
           
             When
             on
             the
             Meads
             black
             showers
             do
             descend
             ,
          
           
             With
             mounds
             of
             earth
             the
             Groves
             from
             flouds
             defend
             .
          
        
         
           
             As
             diff'rent
             figures
             best
             with
             streams
             agree
             ,
          
           
             So
             on
             the
             sides
             let
             there
             some
             diff'rence
             be
             .
          
           
             Still
             with
             variety
             the
             borders
             grace
             ,
          
           
             There
             either
             grass
             ,
             or
             fragrant
             flowers
             place
             ;
          
           
             Or
             with
             a
             wharf
             of
             stone
             the
             bank
             secure
             ;
          
           
             But
             troubled
             Fens
             let
             their
             own
             feeds
             obscure
             :
          
           
             Or
             Weeds
             ,
             where
             croaking
             Frogs
             and
             Moor-hens
             lye
             ;
          
           
             Nothing
             but
             grass
             your
             banks
             must
             beautifie
             .
          
           
           
             Where
             silver
             Springs
             afford
             transparent
             waves
             ,
          
           
             And
             glist'ring
             sand
             the
             even
             bottom
             paves
             .
          
           
             On
             which
             green
             Elms
             their
             leaves
             in
             Autumn
             shee
             l
             .
          
           
             Thus
             Rivers
             both
             our
             care
             and
             culture
             need
             .
          
           
             While
             in
             their
             channels
             they
             run
             headlong
             down
             ,
          
           
             We
             must
             take
             heed
             ,
             that
             ,
             as
             they
             hast
             ,
             no
             stone
          
           
             Fall'n
             from
             the
             hanging
             brink
             ,
             may
             keep
             them
             back
             ,
          
           
             And
             through
             the
             Vales
             their
             course
             uneasie
             make
             .
          
        
         
           
             Ye
             Springs
             and
             Fountains
             in
             the
             Woods
             resound
             ,
          
           
             And
             with
             your
             noise
             the
             silent
             Groves
             confound
             .
          
           
           
             Frequent
             their
             windings
             ,
             all
             their
             avenues
             ,
          
           
             And
             into
             the
             dry
             roots
             new
             life
             infuse
             .
          
        
         
           
             While
             pleasant
             streams
             invite
             your
             thoughts
             and
             eyes
             ,
          
           
             And
             with
             resistless
             charms
             your
             sense
             surprize
             ;
          
           
             
               Of
               humane
               life
            
             you
             then
             may
             meditate
             ,
          
           
             Obnoxious
             to
             the
             violence
             of
             fate
             ,
          
           
             Life
             unperceiv'd
             ,
             like
             Rivers
             ,
             steals
             away
             .
          
           
             And
             though
             we
             court
             it
             ,
             yet
             it
             will
             not
             stay
             .
          
           
             Then
             may
             you
             think
             of
             
               its
               incertainty
            
             .
          
           
             Constant
             in
             nothing
             but
             inconstancy
             .
          
           
             See
             what
             rude
             waves
             disturb
             the
             things
             below
             ,
          
           
             And
             through
             what
             stormy
             voyages
             we
             go
             .
          
           
             So
             Hypanis
             ,
             you
             'l
             say
             ,
             and
             Peneus
             so
             ,
          
           
             Simois
             ,
             and
             Volsoian
             Amasenus
             flow
             ;
          
           
             Naupactian
             Achelous
             ,
             Inachus
             ,
          
           
             With
             slow
             Melanthus
             ,
             swift
             Parthenius
             ,
          
           
           
             Thus
             ran
             along
             ,
             and
             so
             Dyraspes
             went
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             current
             Borysthenian
             streams
             augment
             .
          
        
         
           
             Besides
             the
             Fountains
             ,
             which
             to
             art
             we
             owe
             ,
          
           
             That
             falls
             of
             water
             also
             can
             bestow
          
           
             Such
             ,
             as
             on
             rugged
             Iura
             we
             descry
             ,
          
           
             On
             Rocks
             ;
             and
             on
             the
             Alps
             which
             touch
             the
             Sky
             .
          
           
             Where
             from
             steep
             precipices
             it
             descends
             ,
          
           
             And
             where
             America
             it self
             extends
          
           
             To
             the
             rude
             North
             ;
             expos'd
             to
             Eurus
             blast
             :
          
           
             On
             Canadas
             bold
             shore
             the
             Ocean
             past
             .
          
           
             There
             among
             Groves
             of
             Fit-trees
             ever
             green
             ,
          
           
             Streams
             falling
             headlong
             from
             the
             Cliffs
             are
             seen
             :
          
           
             The
             cataracts
             resound
             along
             the
             shore
             ;
          
           
             Struck
             with
             the
             noise
             ,
             the
             Woods
             and
             Valleys
             rore
             .
          
           
           
             These
             wonders
             which
             by
             nature
             here
             are
             shown
             ,
          
           
             
               Ruellian
               Naiads
            
             have
             by
             Art
             out-done
             .
          
           
             Into
             the
             air
             a
             Rock
             with
             lofty
             head
          
           
             Aspires
             ,
             the
             hasty
             waters
             thence
             proceed
             .
          
           
             Dash'd
             against
             rugged
             places
             they
             descend
             ,
          
           
             And
             broken
             thus
             themselves
             in
             foam
             they
             spend
             .
          
           
             They
             sound
             ,
             as
             when
             some
             torrent
             uncontroll'd
             ,
          
           
             With
             mighty
             force
             is
             from
             a
             Mountain
             roll'd
             .
          
           
             The
             earth
             with
             horrid
             noise
             affrighted
             grones
             ,
          
           
             Flints
             which
             lye
             underneath
             ,
             and
             moistned
             stones
             ,
          
           
             Are
             beat
             with
             waves
             ;
             th'
             untrodden
             paths
             resound
             ,
          
           
             And
             groves
             and
             woods
             do
             loudly
             eccho
             round
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             But
             if
             on
             even
             ground
             your
             Garden
             stand
             ,
          
           
             If
             no
             unequal
             hill
             ,
             or
             cliff
             command
             ,
          
           
             Whence
             you
             the
             falling
             waters
             may
             revoke
             ,
          
           
             From
             the
             declining
             ridge
             of
             some
             kind
             rock
             .
          
           
             Then
             in
             long
             ranges
             your
             Cascades
             digest
             :
          
           
             The
             Nymph
             of
             Liancourt
             so
             hers
             ha's
             drest
             .
          
           
             For
             by
             the
             Gardens
             side
             ,
             the
             Rivers
             pass
          
           
             From
             no
             steep
             cliff
             ,
             but
             down
             a
             bank
             of
             grass
             .
          
        
         
           
             Nor
             should
             it
             less
             deserve
             of
             our
             esteem
             ,
          
           
             When
             from
             an
             even
             bed
             diffus'd
             the
             stream
          
           
             Runs
             down
             a
             polish'd
             rock
             ,
             and
             as
             it
             flows
             ,
          
           
             Like
             Linen
             in
             the
             air
             expanded
             shows
             .
          
           
             The
             Textile
             floud
             a
             slender
             Current
             holds
             ,
          
           
             And
             in
             a
             wavy
             veil
             the
             place
             infolds
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             But
             these
             Cascades
             and
             sports
             you
             need
             not
             there
             ,
          
           
             Where
             spacious
             Pools
             with
             wider
             brims
             appear
             .
          
           
             And
             scarce
             within
             their
             banks
             and
             chambers
             held
             ,
          
           
             Run
             into
             brooks
             ,
             and
             visit
             all
             the
             field
             .
          
           
             And
             to
             this
             end
             ,
             if
             my
             advice
             you
             take
             ,
          
           
             In
             the
             low
             places
             of
             your
             Garden
             make
             ,
          
           
             Besides
             the
             other
             Springs
             ,
             large
             trenches
             too
             ;
          
           
             To
             which
             from
             ev'ry
             part
             the
             streams
             may
             flow
             .
          
           
             For
             little
             Brooks
             and
             Springs
             are
             not
             so
             good
             ,
          
           
             Nor
             please
             so
             much
             as
             a
             more
             noble
             floud
             .
          
           
             But
             if
             square
             Pools
             ,
             and
             deeper
             Ponds
             you
             love
             ,
          
           
             Dig
             a
             broad
             channel
             ;
             all
             the
             earth
             remove
             ;
          
           
             To
             make
             it
             level
             to
             that
             watry
             bed
             ,
          
           
             Or
             the
             deep
             Marsh
             by
             which
             it
             must
             be
             fed
             .
          
           
           
             Then
             with
             a
             wharf
             of
             stone
             secure
             the
             place
             ,
          
           
             With
             cement
             bound
             ;
             let
             this
             the
             shore
             embrace
             .
          
           
             For
             the
             foundation
             you
             with
             stone
             must
             lay
             ;
          
           
             Though
             that
             it self
             ha's
             oft
             been
             forc'd
             away
             .
          
           
             Always
             by
             force
             the
             Element
             restrain
             ,
          
           
             And
             let
             the
             shores
             the
             raging
             flouds
             contain
             .
          
        
         
           
             The
             empty
             Lakes
             from
             Springs
             will
             be
             supply'd
             ,
          
           
             Brought
             from
             the
             field
             along
             the
             Gardens
             side
             .
          
           
             An
             hundred
             Brooks
             from
             flowing
             never
             cease
             ,
          
           
             And
             with
             their
             plenty
             make
             the
             Pools
             increase
             .
          
           
             Some
             I
             have
             seen
             ,
             who
             all
             their
             ponds
             have
             fill'd
             ,
          
           
             With
             those
             supplies
             which
             the
             deep
             torrents
             yield
             .
          
           
           
             And
             in
             a
             Laver
             ,
             by
             its
             bank
             inclos'd
             ,
          
           
             The
             waves
             collected
             in
             the
             vales
             dispos'd
             :
          
           
             Collected
             through
             the
             fields
             from
             fallen
             rains
             .
          
           
             And
             Bavillaeum
             such
             a
             Pond
             maintains
             .
          
           
             The
             Nymph
             o'
             th
             place
             ha's
             this
             of
             late
             prepar'd
          
           
             The
             owners
             fortune
             ha's
             the
             house
             repair'd
             .
          
           
             From
             him
             the
             seat
             its
             greatest
             glory
             draws
             ,
          
           
             And
             he
             obtain'd
             his
             honour
             by
             the
             laws
             .
          
           
             The
             slender
             stream
             through
             ancient
             ruines
             went
             ,
          
           
             Unless
             the
             Winter
             showers
             did
             augment
          
           
             Its
             force
             ,
             it
             wash'd
             a
             Villa
             quite
             decai'd
             ,
          
           
             And
             with
             it
             s
             sully'd
             waves
             through
             rubbish
             straid
             .
          
           
             The
             Sancaronian
             Cattle
             on
             the
             brink
             ,
          
           
             And
             Bavillaean
             Cows
             were
             wont
             to
             drink
             .
          
           
             Once
             with
             a
             leap
             I
             could
             have
             past
             it
             o're
             ,
          
           
             But
             its
             great
             master
             quickly
             did
             restore
          
           
           
             The
             beauty
             it
             had
             lost
             ;
             and
             as
             he
             rose
             ,
          
           
             So
             still
             with
             him
             the
             current
             bigger
             grows
             .
          
           
             That
             which
             with
             rushes
             cover'd
             ran
             of
             late
             ,
          
           
             Though
             small
             ,
             was
             destin'd
             to
             a
             better
             Fate
             .
          
           
             In
             a
             great
             Laver
             now
             the
             water
             swells
             ,
          
           
             And
             stor'd
             with
             Fish
             a
             spacious
             channel
             fills
             .
          
           
             The
             graver
             Senators
             here
             often
             meet
             ;
          
           
             Here
             the
             Civilians
             ,
             and
             the
             Lawyers
             sit
             .
          
           
             Here
             wearied
             with
             the
             Town
             ,
             and
             their
             affairs
             ,
          
           
             They
             please
             themselves
             ,
             and
             put
             off
             all
             their
             cares
             .
          
           
             A
             Spout
             whose
             fall
             makes
             all
             the
             garden
             sound
             ,
          
           
             Discharges
             in
             the
             middle
             of
             the
             Pond
             .
          
        
         
           
             Nor
             will
             the
             plenteous
             waters
             please
             you
             less
             ,
          
           
             When
             in
             the
             ground
             a
             circle
             they
             possess
             .
          
           
             Which
             Figure
             with
             a
             Garden
             best
             agrees
             :
          
           
             If
             on
             the
             grassie
             bank
             a
             Grove
             of
             Trees
             ,
          
           
           
             With
             shining
             Scenes
             ,
             and
             branches
             hanging
             down
             ,
          
           
             The
             seats
             of
             stone
             ,
             and
             verdant
             shores
             do's
             crown
             .
          
           
             But
             whether
             they
             stand
             still
             ,
             or
             swiftly
             glide
             ,
          
           
             With
             their
             broad
             leaves
             let
             Woods
             the
             Rivers
             hide
             .
          
           
             Bestowing
             on
             each
             place
             their
             cooling
             shade
             ;
          
           
             For
             Springs
             by
             that
             alone
             are
             pleasant
             made
             .
          
           
             Still
             banish
             frogs
             ,
             who
             their
             old
             strifes
             recite
             ,
          
           
             And
             in
             their
             murmurs
             and
             complaints
             delight
             .
          
           
             Drive
             them
             away
             ;
             for
             the
             malicious
             rout
          
           
             Pollutes
             the
             Springs
             ,
             and
             stirs
             the
             mud
             about
             .
          
           
             Let
             silver
             Swans
             upon
             your
             Rivers
             swim
             :
          
           
             Let
             painted
             Barges
             beautifie
             the
             stream
             ;
          
           
             And
             yielding
             waves
             with
             num'rous
             oars
             divide
             .
          
           
             But
             let
             no
             Matrons
             in
             the
             shores
             confide
             ;
          
           
             For
             we
             ,
             too
             well
             ,
             have
             known
             their
             perfidy
             .
          
           
             A●ter
             her
             husbands
             fate
             Alcyone
             ,
          
           
           
             And
             Anna
             sister
             to
             Elisa
             too
             ,
          
           
             The
             Water-gods
             displeas'd
             ,
             nor
             did
             they
             go
          
           
             Unpunish'd
             long
             ;
             swift
             vengeance
             did
             descend
             ,
          
           
             On
             them
             ,
             and
             all
             who
             dare
             the
             Gods
             offend
             .
          
           
             Therefore
             with
             care
             these
             Deities
             adore
             ,
          
           
             Lest
             while
             your
             servants
             work
             along
             the
             shore
             ,
          
           
             Some
             swelling
             tide
             should
             snatch
             them
             from
             your
             sight
             :
          
           
             But
             on
             our
             foes
             let
             these
             misfortunes
             light
             .
          
        
         
           
             Now
             to
             proceed
             to
             what
             I
             have
             begun
             ,
          
           
             That
             through
             your
             fields
             continued
             streams
             may
             run
             .
          
           
             Let
             the
             collected
             flouds
             from
             ev'ry
             side
          
           
             O
             th'
             Garden
             ,
             of
             themselves
             extended
             wide
             ,
          
           
             Upon
             the
             banks
             in
             equal
             channels
             beat
             .
          
           
             No
             water
             makes
             a
             Garden
             more
             compleat
             ,
          
           
           
             Then
             if
             arising
             from
             a
             copious
             Source
             ,
          
           
             O're
             all
             the
             Meads
             it
             freely
             takes
             its
             course
             .
          
           
             If
             seen
             all
             round
             with
             sounding
             waves
             it
             flows
             ,
          
           
             And
             as
             it
             runs
             a
             noble
             River
             grows
             .
          
        
         
           
             To
             adde
             more
             rules
             to
             those
             already
             known
             ,
          
           
             Were
             vain
             ;
             for
             if
             in
             Verse
             I
             should
             set
             down
          
           
             All
             that
             this
             art
             contains
             ,
             I
             then
             should
             swerve
          
           
             From
             those
             strict
             laws
             which
             Poets
             should
             observe
             .
          
           
             If
             you
             'l
             know
             more
             ,
             then
             see
             those
             vales
             of
             late
          
           
             In
             their
             successful
             owner
             fortunate
             .
          
           
             See
             there
             the
             Springs
             in
             order
             plac'd
             ;
             some
             bound
          
           
             In
             pipes
             of
             lead
             ,
             and
             buried
             under
             ground
             .
          
           
             There
             you
             will
             find
             the
             Grotts
             with
             Springs
             adorn'd
             ;
          
           
             And
             how
             by
             art
             the
             fountains
             may
             be
             turn'd
             .
          
           
           
             Nor
             suffer
             Liancourt
             t'
             escape
             your
             sight
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             humid
             streams
             ,
             and
             grassie
             banks
             invite
             .
          
           
             See
             how
             the
             Nymph
             the
             Schomberg-water
             guides
          
           
             A
             thousand
             ways
             ,
             and
             o're
             the
             place
             presides
             .
          
           
             And
             thou
             ,
             
               Bellaquean
               Naias
            
             must
             be
             seen
          
           
             Ennobled
             by
             a
             Prince
             .
             Thou
             ,
             like
             a
             Queen
             ,
          
           
             Rul'st
             over
             all
             the
             waves
             of
             France
             ;
             none
             dare
          
           
             Affect
             such
             honours
             ,
             or
             with
             thee
             compare
             :
          
           
             The
             Rivers
             ,
             Fountains
             ,
             and
             the
             Lakes
             of
             Gaul
             ,
          
           
             Broad
             Sein
             ,
             which
             washes
             the
             Parisian
             wall
             :
          
           
             Loire
             ,
             and
             Elaver
             ,
             swallow'd
             by
             the
             Loire
             ,
          
           
             Our
             own
             ,
             and
             forreign
             waters
             thee
             admire
             .
          
           
             To
             thee
             great
             Rome
             her
             Tiber
             must
             submit
             ,
          
           
             And
             Greece
             her self
             must
             all
             her
             streams
             forget
             .
          
           
             As
             other
             Nations
             must
             subscribe
             to
             France
             ,
          
           
             So
             o're
             the
             rest
             thy
             happy
             waves
             advance
             .
          
           
           
             Victorious
             Lewis
             having
             settled
             peace
             ,
          
           
             And
             by
             his
             conduct
             made
             all
             quarrels
             cease
             ,
          
           
             This
             Garden
             by
             additions
             fairer
             made
             ,
          
           
             And
             from
             a
             Rock
             contriv'd
             a
             new
             Cascade
             .
          
           
             But
             what
             should
             I
             these
             haughty
             Springs
             repeat
             ?
          
           
             Or
             the
             immense
             Canale
             ,
             with
             waves
             repleat
             ?
          
           
             How
             ,
             like
             a
             River
             ,
             with
             majestick
             pride
             ,
          
           
             Betwixt
             steep
             banks
             the
             tardy
             waters
             glide
             .
          
           
             These
             shores
             have
             witness'd
             deep
             intrigues
             of
             State
             ,
          
           
             Have
             seen
             when
             Nations
             have
             receiv'd
             their
             fate
             ,
          
           
             When
             suppliant
             Princes
             have
             our
             aid
             implor'd
             ,
          
           
             And
             on
             their
             knees
             our
             rising
             Sun
             ador'd
             .
          
           
             When
             from
             all
             parts
             Embassadours
             have
             come
             ,
          
           
             To
             sue
             for
             peace
             ,
             or
             to
             expect
             their
             doom
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             But
             here
             it
             is
             impossible
             to
             show
          
           
             The
             riches
             which
             adorn
             thee
             Fountainbleau
             ,
          
           
             Or
             all
             the
             honours
             which
             thy
             Gardens
             boast
             :
          
           
             Thy
             Palaces
             erected
             by
             the
             cost
             ,
          
           
             And
             happy
             luxury
             of
             former
             Kings
             ,
          
           
             My
             humble
             Muse
             of
             Gardens
             onely
             sings
             .
          
           
             How
             should
             I
             think
             to
             make
             thy
             wonders
             known
             !
          
           
             When
             the
             shrill
             Trumpets
             ev'ry
             where
             are
             blown
          
           
             By
             Fames
             loud
             breath
             ,
             how
             should
             my
             feeble
             .
             voice
             ,
          
           
             Be
             understood
             amidst
             so
             great
             a
             noise
             ?
          
           
             See
             how
             much
             joy
             appears
             in
             all
             the
             Court
             !
          
           
             And
             what
             a
             sacred
             Pledge
             fit
             to
             support
          
           
             An
             Empires
             weight
             !
             Lucina
             brings
             to
             light
             .
          
           
             You
             might
             perceive
             the
             world
             in
             joy
             unite
             ;
          
           
           
             As
             if
             the
             Dauphins
             Birth-day
             were
             design'd
          
           
             To
             settle
             peace
             ,
             and
             blessings
             on
             mankind
             .
          
        
         
           
             While
             the
             glad
             Nymph
             redoubles
             her
             applause
             ,
          
           
             And
             celebrates
             great
             Lewis
             ,
             who
             gives
             Laws
          
           
             To
             quiet
             France
             ,
             and
             with
             unshaken
             reins
             .
          
           
             His
             glory
             with
             a
             lasting
             Peace
             maintains
             :
          
           
             I
             sing
             the
             other
             Treasures
             of
             the
             Field
             ,
          
           
             And
             all
             those
             gifts
             which
             fruitful
             Orchards
             yield
             .
          
        
      
       
         
         
           RAPINUS
           OF
           GARDENS
           .
        
         
           Book
           IV.
           ORCHARDS
           .
        
         
           
             NOr
             thee
             ,
             Pomona
             ,
             will
             my
             Muse
             forget
             ;
          
           
             Thou
             flourishest
             amidst
             the
             Summers
             heat
             ;
          
           
             All
             things
             are
             full
             of
             thee
             :
             Autumnus
             shows
          
           
             Thy
             honour
             too
             ,
             adorn'd
             by
             verdant
             boughs
             :
          
           
           
             To
             thee
             Lamon
             ,
             this
             part
             of
             my
             design
          
           
             Relates
             ;
             let
             prosp'rous
             Breezes
             then
             combine
             .
          
           
             And
             suffer
             thou
             my
             voyage
             to
             succed
             ,
          
           
             That
             through
             the
             main
             my
             Bark
             may
             cut
             with
             speed
             .
          
           
             Though
             you
             maintain
             severe
             Astraeas
             right
             ,
          
           
             Incourage
             virtue
             ,
             and
             from
             vice
             affright
             :
          
           
             Yet
             have
             we
             seen
             you
             play
             the
             Gard'ner
             too
             ,
          
           
             And
             giving
             precepts
             how
             your
             trees
             should
             grow
             .
          
        
         
           
             Their
             culture
             ,
             and
             their
             species
             too
             by
             thee
          
           
             At
             large
             describ'd
             ,
             the
             Husbandman
             may
             see
             .
          
        
         
           
             And
             for
             this
             benefit
             so
             let
             thy
             ground
          
           
             Be
             ever
             kind
             ,
             be
             ever
             grateful
             found
             !
          
           
             Let
             thy
             luxuriant
             Orchards
             so
             be
             filld
          
           
             That
             the
             weak
             boughs
             beneath
             their
             load
             may
             yeild
             !
          
           
           
             That
             Bavillaeau
             barns
             with
             store
             may
             break
             ,
          
           
             And
             Plenty
             never
             may
             thy
             house
             forsake
             !
          
        
         
           
             Though
             to
             all
             plants
             each
             soil
             is
             not
             dispos'd
             ,
          
           
             And
             on
             some
             places
             nature
             has
             impos'd
          
           
             Peculiar
             laws
             ,
             which
             she
             unchang'd
             preserves
             ,
          
           
             Such
             servile
             laws
             ,
             France
             scarce
             at
             all
             observes
             .
          
           
             Shee
             's
             fertile
             to
             excess
             :
             all
             fruits
             she
             bears
             ,
          
           
             And
             willingly
             repays
             the
             Plowmans
             cares
             .
          
           
             What
             if
             Burgundian
             Hills
             with
             vines
             abound
             ?
          
           
             Or
             if
             with
             Orchards
             Normandy
             be
             crown'd
             ?
          
           
             Though
             Beausse
             her
             corn
             ?
             Bigorre
             her
             metals
             shows
             ?
          
           
             Though
             Bearn
             be
             woody
             ?
             Troys
             with
             wine
             o'reflows
             ?
          
           
             If
             Burdeaux
             cattel
             breeds
             ?
             and
             Auvergne
             yeilds
          
           
             The
             best
             and
             noblest
             horses
             .
             Yet
             the
             sields
          
           
           
             All
             over
             France
             improvement
             will
             admit
             :
          
           
             And
             are
             for
             trees
             ,
             or
             else
             for
             tillage
             fit
             ,
          
           
             Chiefly
             near
             thee
             ,
             moist
             Tours
             ,
             where
             may
             be
             seen
          
           
             A
             lasting
             spring
             ,
             and
             meadows
             ever-green
             .
          
           
             Those
             fields
             which
             the
             Durance
             ,
             and
             flower
             Soane
          
           
             Refresh
             ,
             and
             the
             sweet
             vales
             which
             the
             Garonne
          
           
             With
             slimy
             waters
             gently
             passes
             by
             ,
          
           
             With
             those
             blest
             meads
             which
             near
             great
             Paris
             ly
             ,
          
        
         
           
             Choose
             a
             rich
             soil
             when
             you
             intend
             to
             plant
          
           
             Not
             that
             which
             heavy
             sand
             has
             rendred
             faint
             .
          
           
             Avoid
             low
             vales
             ,
             which
             lye
             between
             close
             hills
             ,
          
           
             Which
             some
             thick
             Pool
             with
             noisome
             vapours
             fills
             .
          
           
             Where
             pithy
             Mists
             ,
             and
             hurtful
             steams
             ascend
             ,
          
           
             Least
             an
             ill
             tast
             they
             to
             your
             fruit
             may
             lend
             .
          
           
           
             Still
             fly
             that
             place
             ,
             where
             Auster
             always
             blows
             ,
          
           
             Aud
             sor
             your
             trees
             that
             scituation
             choose
             ,
          
           
             Where
             in
             the
             open
             air
             on
             a
             descent
             ,
          
           
             To
             bless
             their
             growth
             more
             gentle
             winds
             consent
             .
          
        
         
           
             And
             though
             the
             field
             toth
             '
             Sun
             exposed
             be
             ,
          
           
             Or
             the
             hot
             winds
             ,
             yet
             this
             may
             well
             agree
          
           
             With
             flowers
             ,
             but
             then
             you
             must
             some
             distance
             make
          
           
             Between
             the
             flow'rs
             ,
             and
             trees
             ,
             and
             to
             keep
             back
          
           
             People
             and
             Cattle
             ,
             which
             would
             else
             offend
             ,
          
           
             With
             Iron-grates
             the
             avenues
             defend
             .
          
        
         
           
             How
             to
             choose
             Land
             I
             here
             omit
             to
             tell
             ,
          
           
             In
             diffrent
             grounds
             what
             diff'rent
             habits
             dwell
             :
          
           
             As
             also
             how
             to
             plant
             ,
             or
             when
             to
             sow
             ,
          
           
             These
             arts
             the
             Husbandmen
             already
             know
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             But
             if
             the
             ground
             cannot
             the
             Trees
             maintain
             ,
          
           
             In
             open
             furrows
             till
             it
             o're
             again
             .
          
           
             Dig
             all
             the
             barren
             field
             with
             care
             and
             toil
             ,
          
           
             And
             for
             exhausted
             earth
             bring
             better
             Soil
             .
          
           
             That
             which
             comes
             nearest
             sand
             is
             best
             of
             all
             ,
          
           
             If
             it
             be
             moist
             and
             colour'd
             well
             withall
             .
          
           
             Too
             many
             weeds
             from
             too
             much
             moisture
             rise
             :
          
           
             Destructive
             weeds
             ,
             a
             Gardens
             enemies
             .
          
        
         
           
             Now
             that
             the
             plant
             may
             with
             the
             mold
             comply
             ;
          
           
             What
             fruits
             it
             most
             approves
             you
             first
             must
             try
             .
          
           
             Whether
             the
             Vine
             thrives
             best
             upon
             the
             place
             ,
          
           
             Or
             other
             trees
             ,
             for
             there
             can
             be
             no
             grace
          
           
             In
             any
             ground
             that
             's
             forc'd
             against
             its
             will
          
           
             To
             bring
             forth
             fruit
             :
             therefore
             remember
             still
          
           
             Never
             with
             nature
             any
             force
             to
             use
             ,
          
           
             For
             t
             is
             injurious
             if
             she
             should
             refuse
             .
          
           
           
             When
             once
             the
             field
             is
             levell'd
             ,
             and
             prepar'd
             ,
          
           
             Let
             it
             in
             equal
             distances
             be
             thar'd
             .
          
           
             Appoint
             the
             seats
             in
             which
             your
             trees
             shall
             stand
             ,
          
           
             Then
             choose
             a
             quince
             from
             a
             selected
             band
             :
          
           
             And
             having
             cut
             the
             woody
             part
             away
             ,
          
           
             Into
             warm
             mold
             you
             then
             the
             Plant
             may
             lay
             .
          
           
             Nor
             think
             it
             is
             unworthy
             of
             your
             hand
          
           
             To
             make
             the
             furrows
             hollow
             ,
             or
             t'expand
          
           
             The
             Earth
             about
             the
             roots
             ,
             for
             still
             we
             find
             ,
          
           
             That
             he
             who
             does
             the
             laws
             of
             planting
             mind
             ,
          
           
             He
             who
             from
             parent-stocks
             ,
             young
             branches
             cuts
             ,
          
           
             And
             then
             in
             trenches
             the
             soft
             layers
             puts
             ,
          
           
             Seldom
             repents
             these
             necessary
             pains
             ,
          
           
             But
             rather
             profit
             by
             his
             care
             obtains
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             While
             Fortune
             waited
             on
             the
             Persian
             state
             ;
          
           
             Cyrus
             ,
             who
             from
             Astyages
             the
             great
          
           
             Himself
             deriv'd
             ,
             himself
             his
             Gardens
             till'd
             .
          
           
             How
             oft
             astonish'd
             Tmolus
             has
             beheld
          
           
             Th'
             industrious
             Prince
             in
             planting
             Trees
             and
             Flow'rs
             .
          
           
             And
             watring
             them
             imploy
             his
             vacant
             hours
             !
          
           
             How
             oft
             Orontes
             stopp'd
             his
             hasty
             flood
             ,
          
           
             And
             gazing
             on
             the
             Royal
             Gardner
             stood
             .
          
           
             The
             Sabine
             vallys
             heretofore
             have
             known
          
           
             When
             noblest
             Romans
             have
             forsook
             the
             town
             ;
          
           
             When
             they
             their
             Pomp
             and
             Glory
             laid
             aside
             ,
          
           
             And
             to
             the
             Rake
             and
             Plow
             themselves
             applied
             ,
          
        
         
           
             And
             this
             employment
             warlike
             Fabius
             chose
             ,
          
           
             When
             he
             return'd
             from
             vanquishing
             his
             foes
             .
          
           
           
             He
             ,
             who
             in
             open
             Senate
             made
             decrees
             ,
          
           
             Manures
             his
             ground
             ,
             and
             now
             gives
             laws
             to
             Trees
             .
          
           
             No
             longer
             o're
             his
             legions
             he
             commands
             ,
          
           
             But
             sows
             the
             earth
             with
             his
             victorious
             hands
             ,
          
           
             The
             Glebe
             by
             this
             triumphant
             swain
             snbdued
             ,
          
           
             Repay'd
             his
             pains
             with
             timely
             gratitude
             .
          
           
             Became
             more
             fruitful
             ,
             then
             it
             was
             before
             ,
          
           
             And
             better
             plants
             ,
             and
             larger
             apples
             bore
             .
          
           
             Thus
             Massinissa
             ,
             when
             he
             wonne
             the
             day
             ,
          
           
             And
             made
             false
             Syphax
             with
             his
             troops
             obey
             ;
          
           
             In
             tilling
             of
             his
             ground
             he
             spent
             his
             time
             ,
          
           
             And
             try'd
             t'
             improve
             the
             barb'rous
             Libian
             clime
             ,
          
        
         
           
             Great
             Lewis
             too
             ,
             who
             carefully
             attends
          
           
             His
             Kingdom
             Government
             ,
             sometimes
             descends
          
           
           
             From
             his
             high
             throne
             ,
             and
             in
             the
             Country
             daigns
          
           
             To
             please
             him self
             ,
             and
             slack
             his
             Empires
             rains
             .
          
           
             For
             to
             St
             ,
             Germans
             if
             he
             chance
             to
             go
             ,
          
           
             To
             the
             Versalian
             hills
             ,
             or
             Fountainbleau
             ,
          
           
             He
             thinks
             not
             that
             it
             makes
             his
             glory
             less
             ,
          
           
             T'
             improve
             his
             ground
             :
             his
             Servants
             round
             him
             press
             ;
          
           
             Hundreds
             with
             Fruits
             ,
             Hundreds
             with
             Flowers
             strive
          
           
             To
             fill
             the
             place
             :
             the
             water
             some
             derive
          
           
             Into
             the
             Gardens
             ,
             while
             with
             watchful
             eye
          
           
             He
             oversees
             the
             work
             ,
             and
             equally
          
           
             To
             ev'ry
             laborer
             his
             duty
             shows
             ;
          
           
             And
             the
             same
             care
             on
             all
             the
             field
             bestows
             .
          
           
             Nor
             dos
             the
             King
             these
             arts
             in
             vain
             approve
             :
          
           
             The
             gratefull
             Earth
             rewards
             his
             Royal
             love
             .
          
           
           
             But
             why
             should
             I
             such
             great
             examples
             name
             ?
          
           
             Our
             age
             wants
             nothing
             that
             should
             more
             inflame
          
           
             Its
             zeal
             ,
             for
             since
             the
             greatest
             men
             now
             please
          
           
             Themselves
             in
             cultivating
             of
             their
             trees
             ;
          
           
             Since
             t
             is
             their
             praise
             to
             do
             do
             it
             ,
             why
             should
             you
          
           
             Refuse
             this
             sweet
             imployment
             to
             pursue
             .
          
           
             If
             fruit
             of
             your
             own
             raising
             can
             invite
             ,
          
           
             If
             in
             your
             Villa
             you
             can
             take
             delight
             ,
          
           
             Or
             can
             the
             Country
             love
             ,
             to
             that
             apply
          
           
             Your self
             ,
             and
             to
             your
             Plants
             no
             pains
             deny
             .
          
           
             The
             Stars
             if
             kind
             ,
             or
             goodness
             of
             the
             soil
             ,
          
           
             Help
             not
             so
             much
             ,
             as
             never-ceasing
             toil
             .
          
           
             Then
             let
             the
             Earth
             more
             frequent
             tillage
             know
             :
          
           
             The
             stubborn
             Glebe
             is
             vanquish'd
             by
             the
             Plow
             .
          
           
             When
             rain
             or
             stormy
             winds
             pernicious
             are
             ,
          
           
             When
             the
             Suns
             influence
             or
             intemp'rate
             Air
          
           
           
             Injurious
             proves
             the
             Tillers
             industry
          
           
             And
             culture
             all
             defects
             will
             soon
             supply
             .
          
           
             That
             this
             is
             true
             ,
             a
             Marsian
             clown
             has
             shown
             ,
          
           
             Who
             in
             a
             little
             Garden
             of
             his
             own
             ,
          
           
             Which
             he
             himself
             manur'd
             ,
             had
             store
             of
             fruit
             ,
          
           
             While
             all
             the
             Country
             else
             was
             destitute
             .
          
           
             The
             standing
             Corn
             you
             on
             his
             ground
             might
             view
             :
          
           
             And
             Apples
             broke
             the
             boughs
             on
             which
             they
             grew
             .
          
           
             His
             neighbours
             quickly
             envied
             his
             success
             ,
          
           
             He
             by
             Thessalian
             arts
             his
             grounds
             did
             dress
             ,
          
           
             They
             said
             ,
             and
             hastned
             on
             his
             early
             Corn
          
           
             By
             herbs
             upon
             the
             Marsian
             mountains
             born
             ,
          
           
             Or
             magical
             insusions
             :
             then
             repleat
          
           
             With
             rage
             and
             envy
             to
             the
             judgment-seat
          
           
             They
             halethe
             blameless
             swain
             ,
             where
             his
             defence
          
           
             He
             makes
             ,
             with
             plain
             and
             Rural
             eloquence
             .
          
           
           
             His
             sickle
             he
             produces
             ,
             and
             his
             spade
             ,
          
           
             And
             rake
             ,
             which
             by
             long
             use
             were
             brighter
             made
             .
          
           
             See
             here
             ,
             said
             he
             ,
             the
             crimes
             which
             I
             have
             done
             :
          
           
             If
             tools
             by
             time
             and
             usage
             bright
             are
             one
             .
          
           
             These
             are
             my
             magick
             arts
             ;
             these
             are
             my
             charms
             :
          
           
             Then
             ,
             stretching
             forth
             his
             labour
             stiffned
             arms
          
           
             His
             Sabine
             Dame
             ,
             and
             Daughters
             brawny
             hand
          
           
             Inur'd
             to
             work
             ,
             and
             with
             the
             Sun-beams
             tann'd
             .
          
           
             Thus
             by
             his
             industry
             his
             cause
             he
             gains
             :
          
           
             So
             much
             a
             field
             improves
             by
             constant
             pains
             .
          
           
             Hence
             comes
             good
             Corn
             ,
             and
             hence
             the
             Trees
             are
             crown'd
          
           
             With
             leavy
             boughs
             ,
             hence
             t
             is
             that
             they
             abound
          
           
             In
             their
             choice
             fruits
             ,
             in
             each
             of
             which
             we
             find
          
           
             A
             colour
             proper
             to
             it self
             assign'd
             .
          
           
             Then
             let
             the
             forked
             Shears
             ,
             the
             Rake
             ,
             and
             Prong
             ,
          
           
             Crows
             ,
             Barrows
             ,
             Mattocks
             ,
             Rowlers
             
               which
               belong
            
          
           
           
             To
             th'
             garden
             ,
             be
             for
             ever
             clean
             and
             bright
             .
          
           
             Let
             rust
             on
             Arms
             and
             Trumpets
             only
             light
             .
          
           
             Let
             useless
             Helmets
             in
             the
             dust
             be
             thrown
             :
          
           
             But
             let
             Peace
             bless
             the
             Country
             and
             the
             Town
             .
          
           
             Neglect
             that
             ground
             which
             culture
             doth
             refuse
             ,
          
           
             Least
             there
             the
             tiller
             all
             his
             hopes
             should
             lose
             .
          
           
             Transfer
             your
             pains
             to
             some
             more
             grateful
             soil
             .
          
           
             The
             way
             of
             raising
             Plants
             now
             learn
             a
             while
             .
          
        
         
           
             From
             all
             your
             Garden
             first
             a
             place
             divide
             ,
          
           
             There
             let
             the
             hopeful
             race
             be
             multiplied
             ?
          
           
             Seed
             for
             your
             Trees
             about
             your
             fields
             prepare
             ,
          
           
             And
             let
             the
             Stocks
             confus'd
             spring
             ev'ry
             where
             .
          
           
             There
             let
             them
             all
             together
             upward
             shoot
             ;
          
           
             By
             these
             supply's
             your
             losses
             you
             recruit
             .
          
           
             The
             fairest
             Plant
             from
             stones
             or
             kernels
             grows
             ,
          
           
             Then
             your
             mix'd
             Seedlings
             in
             no
             rank
             dispose
             .
          
           
           
             Along
             the
             walls
             and
             beds
             :
             if
             from
             their
             birth
          
           
             They
             are
             accustomed
             to
             their
             mother
             earth
             ;
          
           
             They
             flourish
             better
             ,
             be
             it
             they
             derive
          
           
             More
             proper
             nourishment
             from
             her
             ,
             or
             thrive
          
           
             With
             more
             success
             ,
             where
             their
             Forefathers
             were
             ,
          
           
             But
             you
             must
             still
             a
             gen'rous
             stock
             prefer
             .
          
           
             Whose
             vigor
             ,
             and
             whose
             spirits
             are
             no
             less
             ,
          
           
             Then
             what
             its
             ancesters
             did
             once
             possess
             .
          
           
             That
             's
             best
             which
             has
             most
             joints
             ,
             but
             those
             resuse
          
           
             Which
             at
             wide
             distances
             few
             buds
             produce
             .
          
        
         
           
             When
             with
             due
             judgment
             you
             would
             choose
             a
             place
             ,
          
           
             Proper
             ,
             wherein
             to
             raise
             a
             future
             race
             ;
          
           
             Let
             it
             be
             in
             the
             Sun
             ;
             without
             his
             aid
          
           
             The
             ground
             will
             languish
             ,
             and
             the
             fruit
             will
             fade
             ,
          
           
           
             He
             rules
             the
             winds
             ,
             and
             tempests
             in
             the
             sky
             ;
          
           
             And
             while
             he
             views
             the
             world
             with
             his
             bright
             eye
             ,
          
           
             He
             cherishes
             all
             things
             ,
             and
             vital
             juice
          
           
             Into
             the
             witherd
             herbage
             can
             infuse
             ,
          
           
             He
             governs
             the
             twelve
             signs
             ,
             and
             by
             him
             steer
          
           
             The
             courses
             of
             the
             Earth
             ,
             the
             Heav'n
             ,
             and
             year
             .
          
           
             Heav'n
             if
             observ'd
             ,
             great
             benefits
             imparts
             ,
          
           
             Nor
             less
             the
             rayes
             which
             glorious
             Phorbus
             darts
             ,
          
           
             Either
             when
             setting
             he
             do's
             disappear
             ,
          
           
             Or
             rising
             guilds
             the
             Northern
             Hemisphear
             .
          
           
             His
             radiant
             beams
             will
             never
             shine
             in
             vain
             ,
          
           
             To
             him
             and
             his
             sister
             then
             who
             raign
          
           
             Together
             ,
             and
             Olympus
             Empire
             sway
             ;
          
           
             Let
             the
             glad
             youth
             deserved
             honours
             pay
             .
          
           
             They
             both
             are
             kind
             to
             trees
             ;
             and
             both
             expect
          
           
             To
             be
             observ'd
             :
             by
             them
             your
             course
             direct
             :
          
           
           
             For
             they
             well
             known
             you
             have
             no
             cause
             to
             fear
             ,
          
           
             Though
             diffrent
             colours
             in
             sky
             appear
             .
          
           
             Yet
             in
             the
             Spring
             desire
             not
             too
             much
             heat
             ,
          
           
             Least
             the
             remaining
             cold
             your
             hopes
             defeat
             :
          
           
             And
             the
             Suns
             kindness
             then
             should
             prove
             his
             crime
             ,
          
           
             If
             forward
             fruit
             appear
             before
             its
             time
             ,
          
           
             Though
             chearful
             blossoms
             promise
             you
             success
             ,
          
           
             Trust
             not
             the
             fading
             Flow'r
             ,
             but
             still
             suppress
          
           
             Your
             expectations
             ,
             and
             for
             summer
             stay
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             genial
             warmth
             secures
             them
             from
             decay
             .
          
           
             The
             gardner
             oft
             vain
             Blossoms
             has
             believ'd
             ;
          
           
             And
             with
             false
             hopes
             as
             oft
             has
             bin
             deceiv'd
             .
          
        
         
           
             i
             th'
             end
             of
             Spring
             when
             welcome
             heat
             returns
          
           
             When
             ev'ry
             Garden
             lovely
             fruit
             adorns
             ,
          
           
             Sometimes
             a
             Tree
             by
             sudden
             tempests
             crost
          
           
             The
             whole
             years
             Hopes
             in
             one
             short
             Night
             has
             lost
             .
          
           
           
             The
             cruel
             winds
             now
             most
             their
             rage
             imploy
             ,
          
           
             Rough
             Boreas
             more
             then
             any
             will
             destroy
             .
          
           
             The
             Trees
             and
             Orchards
             ,
             therefore
             ,
             now
             ,
             ye
             swains
          
           
             While
             the
             fresh
             Spring
             your
             lively
             plants
             maintains
             .
          
           
             Now
             ,
             on
             your
             Festivals
             ,
             by
             frequent
             prair
          
           
             Avert
             pernicious
             winds
             ,
             and
             have
             a
             care
          
           
             In
             Summer
             nights
             of
             Moons
             ,
             which
             nip
             with
             cold
             ,
          
           
             The
             cloud
             ingendred
             Southern
             gusts
             with-hold
             ;
          
           
             And
             the
             Sithonian
             Northern
             blasts
             ;
             for
             these
             ,
          
           
             Unless
             the
             cautious
             husband-man
             foresees
          
           
             That
             they
             approch
             him
             always
             hurtful
             are
             ,
          
           
             When
             ever
             lowring
             clouds
             disturb
             the
             air
          
           
             Your self
             with
             care
             from
             future
             ills
             defend
             ,
          
           
             The
             Seasons
             mark
             ,
             and
             what
             the
             Heav'ns
             portend
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             When
             among
             other
             seasons
             of
             the
             year
          
           
             The
             time
             of
             Graffing
             comes
             ;
             do
             not
             defer
          
           
             In
             proper
             stocks
             young
             Cions
             to
             inclose
             ;
          
           
             Then
             buds
             between
             the
             cloven
             bark
             dispose
             .
          
           
             And
             if
             your
             fruit
             be
             bad
             ,
             as
             oft
             it
             will
             ,
          
           
             Make
             choice
             of
             better
             ,
             and
             remove
             the
             ill
             .
          
           
             By
             these
             improvements
             greatest
             praise
             you
             get
             ,
          
           
             And
             thus
             your
             Gardens
             honour
             you
             compleat
             .
          
           
             Into
             your
             stocks
             the
             forraign
             pears
             admit
             ,
          
           
             And
             far
             fetch'd
             Apples
             place
             within
             the
             slit
             .
          
           
             Hence
             springs
             a
             nobler
             race
             ,
             and
             greater
             store
          
           
             Of
             hopeful
             offspring
             then
             you
             had
             before
             .
          
        
         
           
             The
             plants
             you
             want
             the
             neighbourhood
             will
             give
             :
          
           
             If
             not
             ,
             from
             distant
             countrey's
             them
             derive
             .
          
           
           
             Greece
             first
             sought
             plant
             in
             barb'rous
             climes
             ,
             and
             then
          
           
             She
             civiliz'd
             the
             trees
             as
             well
             as
             men
             .
          
           
             These
             still
             at
             home
             she
             fortunately
             plac't
             ,
          
           
             And
             by
             translation
             did
             correct
             their
             tast
             .
          
           
             While
             auncient
             Fables
             reputation
             gain'd
             ,
          
           
             The
             then
             white
             Mulberry
             with
             red
             was
             stain'd
             .
          
           
             Thisbe
             and
             Pyramus
             who
             yet
             survive
          
           
             In
             Naso's
             verse
             .
             in
             Babylon
             did
             live
             :
          
           
             A
             spotless
             love
             united
             both
             their
             souls
             ;
          
           
             But
             Parents
             hate
             their
             happiness
             controlls
             .
          
           
             Deluded
             by
             their
             passion
             they
             grow
             bold
             ;
          
           
             Not
             walls
             ,
             nor
             strict
             injunctions
             them
             with-hold
             .
          
           
             That
             bliss
             ,
             which
             in
             their
             life
             they
             could
             not
             have
             ,
          
           
             They
             found
             at
             last
             by
             meeting
             in
             the
             grave
             .
          
           
             Hard
             by
             the
             place
             there
             stood
             an
             aged
             tree
          
           
             Which
             ,
             as
             if
             touch'd
             with
             their
             sad
             destiny
             .
          
           
           
             Imbibes
             their
             blood
             ,
             and
             caus'd
             its
             frait
             ,
             which
             late
          
           
             Was
             pale
             ,
             to
             blush
             at
             the
             poor
             lovers
             fate
             .
          
           
             So
             
               Rhodopeian
               Phillis
            
             heretofore
             ,
          
           
             Left
             by
             her
             faithless
             servant
             ,
             on
             the
             shore
             ,
          
           
             When
             she
             was
             pin'd
             away
             with
             grief
             and
             shame
             ,
          
           
             An
             Almond
             in
             her
             fathers
             ground
             became
             .
          
           
             Pallas
             gives
             Olives
             ;
             Bacchus
             do's
             bestow
          
           
             The
             Figgs
             and
             Vines
             to
             Ceres
             Corn
             we
             owe.
             
          
        
         
           
             But
             ,
             what
             the
             Romans
             did
             ,
             why
             should
             I
             tell
          
           
             Whose
             arms
             on
             trees
             as
             well
             as
             nations
             fell
             ?
          
           
             While
             they
             in
             chains
             the
             victors
             Chariots
             drew
             ,
          
           
             Their
             plants
             as
             much
             inslav'd
             by
             Tiber
             grew
             ,
          
           
             Into
             his
             garden
             thus
             from
             Cerasus
          
           
             Lucullus
             first
             did
             Cherrys
             introduce
             ;
          
           
             Damascus
             Plums
             afforded
             ;
             Media
             ,
          
           
             With
             Lydia
             ,
             Egypt
             ,
             India
             ,
             Caria
             ,
          
           
           
             And
             Persia
             Apples
             gave
             ;
             and
             these
             were
             brought
          
           
             From
             the
             Geloni
             ,
             who
             with
             Axes
             fought
             .
          
        
         
           
             Each
             Nation
             which
             had
             her
             arms
             overcome
             ,
          
           
             Did
             thus
             pay
             tribute
             to
             triumphant
             Rome
             .
          
        
         
           
             Phaliscians
             then
             ,
             who
             Iuno
             most
             ador'd
             ,
          
           
             Their
             empty
             fields
             with
             rows
             of
             Apples
             stor'd
             .
          
           
             And
             the
             Crustumian
             Pears
             ,
             the
             Sabines
             plac't
          
           
             i
             th'
             Amiternan
             Vale
             ,
             th'
             Auruncans
             grac't
          
           
             Taburnus
             then
             with
             Vines
             and
             Olives
             too
             ;
          
           
             At
             these
             new
             plants
             amazed
             Anio
          
           
             Admires
             :
             Oenotria
             likewise
             then
             possest
          
           
             Of
             wholsom
             air
             ,
             and
             with
             a
             fat
             soil
             blest
             .
          
           
             Fruit
             bearing
             trees
             ,
             which
             were
             before
             unknown
          
           
             From
             other
             Gardens
             brought
             into
             her
             own
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             When
             Plants
             of
             a
             corrected
             tast
             are
             found
             ,
          
           
             And
             Stocks
             are
             chosen
             which
             are
             young
             and
             sound
             ;
          
           
             TheGraffer
             then
             th'
             adoptive
             bough
             must
             bring
          
           
             Into
             those
             Stocks
             :
             of
             this
             the
             means
             I
             sing
             .
          
           
             Which
             though
             they
             are
             distinct
             ,
             you
             learn
             with
             ease
          
           
             How
             to
             Graff
             fruitful
             slips
             in
             barren
             trees
             .
          
           
             Some
             cut
             down
             trunks
             ,
             which
             bore
             a
             lofty
             top
             ,
          
           
             And
             hollow
             them
             above
             ,
             thus
             wood-men
             lop
          
           
             The
             tallest
             Oaks
             ,
             and
             cut
             out
             four
             square
             stakes
             ;
          
           
             But
             first
             of
             all
             a
             wedge
             its
             passage
             makes
             .
          
           
             This
             done
             ,
             the
             Cions
             may
             descend
             down
             right
          
           
             Into
             the
             cleft
             ;
             and
             with
             the
             Stock
             unite
             .
          
           
           
             Though
             others
             in
             the
             rind
             betwixt
             each
             bud
          
           
             Make
             an
             incision
             ,
             and
             the
             graff
             include
             ,
          
           
             Which
             by
             degrees
             is
             afterwards
             inclind
          
           
             T'
             incorporate
             it self
             with
             the
             moist
             rind
             .
          
           
             Some
             like
             a
             slender
             Pipe
             the
             bark
             divide
             ,
          
           
             Or
             like
             a
             Scutcheon
             slit
             it
             down
             the
             side
             .
          
           
             Or
             the
             hard
             trunk
             ,
             which
             a
             sharp
             augur
             cleaves
             ,
          
           
             Into
             its
             solid
             part
             the
             Graff
             receives
             .
          
           
             Mean
             while
             ,
             with
             care
             ,
             the
             branches
             which
             are
             joyn'd
             ,
          
           
             You
             with
             a
             sev'nfold
             cord
             must
             strongly
             bind
             .
          
           
             And
             all
             the
             chinks
             with
             pitch
             or
             wax
             defend
             ;
          
           
             For
             if
             the
             cruel
             air
             should
             once
             descend
          
           
             Into
             the
             cleft
             ,
             it
             would
             impede
             the
             juice
             :
          
           
             And
             to
             the
             plant
             its
             nourishment
             refuse
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             But
             ,
             if
             these
             dangers
             it
             has
             once
             indur'd
             ,
          
           
             When
             the
             adopted
             branch
             is
             well
             secur'd
             ;
          
           
             By
             their
             conjunction
             trees
             their
             nature
             loose
             ;
          
           
             That
             which
             was
             wild
             before
             ,
             more
             civil
             grows
             :
          
           
             Unmindful
             of
             their
             mother
             they
             forsake
          
           
             The
             tast
             ,
             which
             they
             from
             her
             at
             first
             did
             take
             .
          
           
             From
             yellow
             Quinces
             ,
             and
             Cornelians
             rise
          
           
             Fruits
             ,
             which
             are
             differenc'd
             by
             various
             dies
             .
          
           
             The
             Pear
             thus
             mends
             :
             the
             Slow
             affords
             good
             Plums
             :
          
           
             And
             the
             bad
             Cherry
             better
             now
             becomes
             .
          
        
         
           
             From
             diff'rent
             boughs
             distinguish'd
             Species
             shoot
             ;
          
           
             But
             now
             I
             tell
             how
             you
             must
             mix
             your
             fruit
             ,
          
           
             What
             branches
             with
             each
             other
             you
             may
             joyn
             :
          
           
             What
             sorts
             will
             best
             in
             amity
             combine
             .
          
           
           
             All
             kinds
             of
             Pears
             the
             Quinces
             entertain
             ;
          
           
             And
             them
             receiv'd
             with
             their
             own
             tincture
             stain
             .
          
           
             The
             hoary
             Pears
             their
             tast
             to
             Apples
             give
             ,
          
           
             They
             with
             the
             shrubby
             Willow
             too
             will
             live
             .
          
           
             The
             Fig
             would
             love
             the
             Mulberry
             ,
             if
             that
          
           
             Its
             blacker
             hue
             would
             somewhat
             moderate
             .
          
           
             Cherrys
             with
             Laurels
             blushes
             will
             compound
             :
          
           
             Apples
             with
             Apples
             do
             their
             tast
             confound
             .
          
           
             And
             ,
             from
             the
             salvage
             Plum
             ,
             we
             Pears
             may
             raise
             :
          
           
             (
             If
             we
             may
             credit
             what
             Palladius
             says
             )
          
           
             But
             Gardners
             now
             ,
             by
             long
             experience
             wise
             ,
          
           
             What
             former
             ages
             taught
             them
             may
             despise
             .
          
        
         
           
             They
             of
             Auvergne
             in
             Willows
             fruits
             inclose
             ;
          
           
             T
             is
             true
             ,
             at
             first
             their
             colour
             grateful
             shows
             .
          
           
           
             But
             ,
             by
             this
             Marriage
             they
             degen'rate
             are
             ,
          
           
             And
             tast
             but
             ill
             ,
             although
             they
             look
             so
             fair
             .
          
        
         
           
             For
             various
             Plants
             what
             air
             ,
             and
             soil
             is
             good
             ,
          
           
             And
             that
             ,
             which
             hurts
             them
             ,
             must
             be
             understood
             .
          
           
             Warm
             air
             ,
             and
             moisture
             is
             by
             Apples
             lov'd
             :
          
           
             But
             ,
             if
             to
             stony
             hills
             they
             are
             remov'd
             ,
          
           
             You
             must
             not
             blame
             them
             ,
             if
             they
             then
             decay
             .
          
           
             Through
             a
             crude
             soil
             the
             Figg
             will
             make
             its
             way
             :
          
           
             If
             it
             be
             not
             expos'd
             to
             the
             rude
             North
             ,
          
           
             A
             humid
             Sand
             will
             make
             the
             Peach
             bring
             forth
             .
          
           
             The
             Pear
             ,
             when
             it
             has
             room
             enough
             to
             spread
             ,
          
           
             Where
             it
             has
             warmth
             sufficient
             over
             head
             ,
          
           
             If
             it
             be
             seconded
             by
             the
             wet
             ground
             ,
          
           
             With
             swelling
             fruits
             ,
             and
             blossoms
             will
             be
             crown'd
             .
          
           
           
             The
             backward
             Mulb'ry
             chuses
             to
             be
             dry
             ,
          
           
             For
             constant
             moisture
             is
             its
             enemy
             .
          
        
         
           
             And
             a
             wet
             soil
             the
             Apple
             vitiates
             ,
          
           
             The
             Cherry
             deeply
             rooted
             propogates
          
           
             If
             self
             with
             freedom
             as
             in
             Italy
          
           
             The
             thriving
             Olives
             every
             where
             we
             see
             .
          
           
             A
             milder
             ground
             the
             Lemmon
             most
             desires
             :
          
           
             One
             more
             severe
             the
             yellow
             Quince
             requires
             .
          
           
             It
             is
             not
             fit
             that
             Apricots
             should
             stand
          
           
             In
             a
             hot
             mold
             ,
             and
             Cherrys
             love
             not
             sand
             ,
          
           
             No
             more
             then
             Strawberrys
             ;
             which
             last
             ,
             if
             fet
          
           
             In
             earth
             that
             's
             well
             subdued
             ,
             if
             to
             the
             heat
          
           
             Of
             the
             warm
             Sun
             expos'd
             ,
             they
             soon
             abound
          
           
             With
             juice
             ,
             their
             Berrys
             then
             grow
             plump
             and
             round
             .
          
           
             Those
             hills
             ,
             which
             favour
             Bacchus
             ,
             Lemmons
             sterve
             :
          
           
             And
             Melons
             which
             a
             gentler
             clime
             deserve
             .
          
           
           
             When
             a
             warm
             scituation
             Plums
             obtain
             ,
          
           
             They
             quickly
             recompence
             the
             Gardners
             pain
             .
          
        
         
           
             If
             in
             your
             Orchards
             any
             tree
             seems
             faint
             ,
          
           
             With
             wonted
             culture
             cure
             the
             sickly
             plant
             ;
          
           
             Er'e
             the
             whole
             Trunk
             is
             touch'd
             with
             the
             disease
             .
          
           
             Briars
             and
             Weeds
             which
             fatal
             are
             to
             Trees
          
           
             Where
             ere
             the
             ground
             is
             bad
             the
             fields
             infest
             ,
          
           
             Whence
             ev'ry
             bough
             with
             faintness
             is
             opprest
             .
          
           
             Culture
             mends
             bitter
             plants
             ;
             they
             then
             ,
             who
             break
          
           
             The
             surface
             oftnest
             up
             ;
             who
             most
             their
             rake
             ,
          
           
             And
             forked
             tools
             about
             the
             roots
             employ
             ;
          
           
             They
             ,
             the
             best
             fruits
             ,
             and
             noblest
             trees
             enjoy
             .
          
           
             But
             if
             the
             soilor
             sow'r
             ,
             or
             brackish
             be
             ,
          
           
             Neither
             the
             careful
             Plow-mans
             industry
             ,
          
           
           
             Nor
             cold
             ,
             nor
             frost
             ,
             or
             storms
             of
             wind
             or
             rain
             ,
          
           
             Improve
             those
             fields
             ,
             they
             never
             can
             obtain
          
           
             Their
             ancient
             reputation
             ;
             all
             things
             there
          
           
             Grow
             worse
             and
             worse
             ,
             forgetting
             what
             they
             were
             .
          
        
         
           
             When
             for
             an
             Orchard
             you
             a
             seat
             will
             chuse
             ,
          
           
             First
             learn
             what
             sorts
             of
             planting
             are
             in
             use
             :
          
           
             Thus
             with
             the
             humours
             of
             each
             place
             complys
             ,
          
           
             In
             open
             Plains
             on
             which
             the
             warm
             Sun
             lyes
             .
          
           
             There
             let
             your
             Trees
             aspire
             in
             grounds
             inclos'd
             ,
          
           
             Let
             a
             Dwarf-race
             of
             fruit-trees
             be
             dispos'd
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             boughs
             are
             round
             and
             short
             :
             nor
             bodys
             tall
             .
          
           
             Some
             Plash
             ,
             and
             tack
             their
             Layers
             on
             the
             wall
             :
          
           
           
             Whilst
             others
             make
             their
             twisted
             Branches
             grow
             ,
          
           
             Like
             a
             shorn
             hedge
             ,
             in
             a
             continued
             row
             .
          
           
             These
             Rural
             ornaments
             by
             all
             are
             sought
             ;
          
           
             And
             if
             they
             vary
             ,
             are
             more
             graceful
             thought
             .
          
           
             Follow
             these
             precepts
             rather
             much
             ,
             then
             those
             ,
          
           
             Which
             our
             own
             ancient
             Husband-men
             impose
             .
          
           
             The
             former
             age
             must
             all
             its
             claims
             resign
             ,
          
           
             Now
             all
             these
             arts
             in
             perfect
             lustre
             shine
             .
          
        
         
           
             Trust
             not
             your
             tender
             Plants
             too
             much
             abroad
             ;
          
           
             To
             Figgs
             the
             summer
             Sun
             must
             be
             allow'd
             .
          
           
             Apples
             ,
             and
             Nuts
             ,
             with
             Cherrys
             ,
             Plums
             &
             Pears
             ,
          
           
             And
             the
             soft
             Almond
             ,
             which
             all
             weather
             bears
             ;
          
           
             Let
             them
             with
             freedom
             in
             the
             air
             ascend
             .
          
           
             And
             if
             just
             tasts
             you
             to
             your
             Fruit
             would
             lend
             ,
          
           
             If
             you
             would
             mend
             their
             genius
             ,
             let
             them
             take
          
           
             Their
             liberty
             ,
             for
             if
             the
             Sun
             do's
             bake
          
           
           
             Them
             well
             ,
             if
             to
             his
             light
             they
             are
             displaid
             ,
          
           
             They
             vanquish
             those
             which
             sculk
             within
             the
             shade
             .
          
           
             Either
             this
             benefit
             from
             Phoebus
             flows
             ,
          
           
             Who
             on
             all
             things
             his
             influence
             bestows
             ;
          
           
             Or
             else
             great
             Trunks
             to
             make
             their
             off-spring
             thrive
             ,
          
           
             More
             juice
             and
             vigour
             from
             the
             earth
             derive
             .
          
           
             Perhaps
             the
             middle
             region
             of
             the
             sky
             ,
          
           
             (
             For
             duller
             vapours
             dare
             not
             mount
             so
             high
             )
          
           
             Sometimes
             imparts
             a
             favourable
             Breeze
             ,
          
           
             And
             fanns
             with
             purer
             air
             the
             tops
             of
             Trees
             .
          
        
         
           
             Then
             let
             your
             Gardens
             in
             the
             Sun
             be
             plac't
             ;
          
           
             From
             him
             your
             Apples
             must
             receive
             their
             tast
             ,
          
           
             And
             hardned
             thus
             the
             Summer
             they
             endure
             ,
          
           
             Those
             which
             were
             crude
             he
             renders
             more
             mature
             .
          
           
           
             The
             tender
             brood
             you
             must
             defend
             with
             care
             ;
          
           
             And
             if
             you
             can
             the
             little
             race
             repair
             ;
          
           
             With
             sharper
             tools
             you
             must
             restrain
             excess
             ;
          
           
             Or
             with
             your
             hand
             superfluous
             leaves
             suppress
             .
          
           
             And
             let
             no
             bough
             its
             parent
             overshade
             ,
          
           
             Nor
             on
             a
             branch
             let
             greater
             weight
             be
             laid
          
           
             Then
             it
             can
             bear
             :
             those
             blossoms
             which
             decay
             ,
          
           
             Or
             are
             not
             hopeful
             you
             must
             take
             away
             .
          
           
             Till
             a
             more
             gen'rous
             off-spring
             dos
             succeed
             :
          
           
             This
             is
             the
             only
             way
             to
             mend
             the
             breed
             .
          
           
             The
             Mother
             of
             her
             children
             thus
             bereav'd
          
           
             Must
             with
             assiduous
             culture
             be
             reliev'd
             .
          
        
         
           
             Though
             it
             be
             welcome
             to
             the
             sordid
             swain
             ,
          
           
             Too
             fruitful
             trees
             their
             plenty
             boast
             in
             vain
             :
          
           
             Their
             store
             destroys
             them
             ;
             rather
             let
             them
             feel
          
           
             The
             wholsome
             sharpness
             of
             the
             crooked
             steel
             .
          
           
           
             For
             ,
             while
             the
             Gard'ner
             th'useless
             Flow'rs
             invades
             ,
          
           
             He
             greater
             glory
             to
             the
             Parent
             adds
             .
          
           
             No
             tree
             can
             long
             its
             fruitfulness
             enjoy
             ;
          
           
             Such
             virtues
             their
             possessors
             soon
             destroy
             .
          
           
             Unless
             they
             cease
             from
             bearing
             ,
             they
             must
             wast
             ;
          
           
             For
             no
             extream
             of
             good
             can
             ever
             last
             .
          
           
             They
             who
             retard
             their
             siuit
             deserve
             more
             praise
             ,
          
           
             Then
             they
             who
             nature
             by
             incitements
             raise
             .
          
           
             Some
             Gardners
             I
             remember
             near
             the
             town
             ,
          
           
             With
             dung
             their
             slower
             Apples
             hastned
             on
             .
          
           
             The
             usual
             Method
             could
             not
             them
             content
             ,
          
           
             They
             by
             their
             hast
             the
             Seasons
             did
             prevent
             .
          
           
             Let
             no
             such
             customs
             in
             your
             Gardens
             be
             ,
          
           
             For
             these
             productions
             are
             an
             injury
             .
          
           
             They
             in
             a
             Lethargy
             the
             Plants
             ingage
             ,
          
           
             And
             make
             them
             subject
             to
             untimely
             age
             .
          
           
           
             Let
             not
             your
             fruits
             their
             seasons
             then
             forsake
             ,
          
           
             Nor
             with
             ungentle
             hand
             sow'r
             Apples
             take
             :
          
           
             Least
             with
             Abortian
             you
             the
             mothers
             kill
             ,
          
           
             And
             your
             nice
             stomach
             with
             raw
             humours
             fill
             .
          
        
         
           
             If
             you
             are
             curious
             how
             your
             fruits
             are
             died
             ,
          
           
             To
             neighb'ring
             walls
             their
             branches
             must
             be
             tyed
             .
          
           
             When
             Titans
             raies
             on
             them
             at
             mid
             day
             beat
             ,
          
           
             And
             grow
             more
             pow'rful
             by
             reflected
             heat
             ;
          
           
             Those
             ,
             which
             are
             most
             expos'd
             ,
             will
             best
             derive
          
           
             The
             pleasing
             colours
             which
             the
             Sun
             can
             give
             .
          
        
         
           
             How
             this
             advantage
             is
             to
             be
             obtain'd
             ;
          
           
             And
             how
             t'
             augment
             the
             heat
             shall
             be
             explain'd
             ,
          
           
             First
             a
             long
             wall
             you
             must
             due
             South
             erect
             ,
          
           
             From
             thence
             the
             most
             intensive
             warmth
             expect
             .
          
           
           
             This
             dawbe
             with
             Morter
             o're
             ;
             which
             being
             plain
          
           
             Will
             best
             reverbe
             rate
             the
             raies
             again
             .
          
           
             Those
             vermine
             too
             are
             kill'd
             by
             scorching
             lime
             '
          
           
             Which
             would
             destroy
             the
             trees
             themselves
             in
             time
             .
          
        
         
           
             Next
             hooks
             of
             Iron
             fix
             along
             the
             wall
             ,
          
           
             On
             them
             let
             Poles
             or
             Rods
             of
             Willow
             fall
             :
          
           
             On
             which
             the
             branches
             may
             depend
             in
             rows
             ,
          
           
             The
             Husband-man
             with
             twiggs
             may
             tye
             them
             close
             ,
          
           
             Though
             others
             fasten
             them
             with
             knotts
             of
             wire
             ,
          
           
             In
             time
             the
             pliant
             boughs
             themselves
             desire
          
           
             To
             bear
             that
             yoke
             ,
             to
             which
             they
             are
             restrain'd
             ,
          
           
             If
             from
             their
             tender
             youth
             they
             are
             inchain'd
             .
          
           
             That
             so
             by
             long
             obedience
             being
             taught
             ,
          
           
             They
             to
             their
             duty
             may
             with
             ease
             be
             brought
             .
          
           
           
             Age
             dos
             rebellion
             into
             shoots
             instill
             :
          
           
             And
             makes
             them
             stubborn
             to
             the
             benders
             will.
             
          
        
         
           
             Then
             ,
             that
             they
             may
             comply
             with
             greater
             ease
             ,
          
           
             Instruct
             them
             in
             submission
             by
             degrees
             .
          
           
             While
             blooming
             years
             permit
             ,
             and
             while
             they
             have
          
           
             An
             inclination
             proper
             to
             inslave
             ;
          
           
             Along
             your
             walls
             young
             trees
             betimes
             expand
             ,
          
           
             Which
             by
             degrees
             may
             stoop
             to
             your
             command
             .
          
        
         
           
             The
             branches
             ,
             if
             in
             decent
             order
             plac't
             .
          
           
             By
             servitude
             are
             not
             at
             all
             disgrac't
             .
          
           
             No
             more
             ,
             then
             when
             a
             woman
             dos
             with
             care
          
           
             Within
             strict
             fillets
             bind
             her
             flowing
             hair
             :
          
           
           
             Disposing
             it
             according
             to
             the
             mode
             ,
          
           
             When
             she
             intends
             to
             show
             her
             dress
             abroad
             .
          
           
             Restraint
             becomes
             her
             hair
             ;
             and
             thus
             a
             Tree
          
           
             When
             it
             is
             captive
             will
             more
             lovely
             be
             .
          
           
             If
             lawless
             twiggs
             rebell
             not
             from
             the
             rest
             ;
          
           
             And
             the
             green
             mantle
             dos
             the
             wall
             invest
             .
          
        
         
           
             These
             textures
             noblest
             tapestry
             transcend
             ,
          
           
             And
             with
             their
             beauty
             all
             the
             place
             commend
             .
          
           
             Chiefly
             when
             diff'rent
             fruits
             their
             seasons
             know
             ,
          
           
             And
             to
             your
             sight
             their
             various
             colours
             show
             .
          
           
             How
             must
             it
             then
             the
             Gardners
             heart
             affect
             ,
          
           
             To
             see
             those
             beautys
             he
             ne're
             durst
             expect
             ;
          
           
             While
             on
             the
             fruit-charg'd
             wall
             ,
             the
             Figgs
             grow
             black
             ,
          
           
             And
             Peaches
             red
             ,
             the
             boughs
             with
             Apples
             crack
             .
          
           
           
             For
             when
             the
             Summers
             particolour'd
             race
          
           
             Appears
             ,
             then
             ev'ry
             tree
             its
             wealth
             displaies
             ,
          
           
             Which
             was
             before
             beneath
             the
             leaves
             conceal'd
             ;
          
           
             Then
             t
             is
             delightful
             to
             survey
             each
             field
             ,
          
           
             To
             visit
             all
             your
             Villa
             ,
             and
             to
             see
          
           
             What
             fruits
             and
             treasures
             in
             your
             Gardens
             be
             .
          
           
             Nor
             unaffecting
             to
             admire
             those
             dies
             ,
          
           
             Which
             on
             the
             branchy
             solds
             your
             sight
             surprise
             .
          
           
             To
             pluck
             the
             early
             fruit
             ,
             or
             if
             you
             will
             ,
          
           
             Home
             to
             convey
             the
             Panniers
             which
             you
             fill
             .
          
           
             Whether
             you
             search
             what
             fruits
             are
             of
             good
             kind
             ,
          
           
             Or
             would
             the
             Genius
             of
             your
             Orchards
             find
             ;
          
           
             Or
             with
             what
             culture
             Plants
             will
             flourish
             best
             ,
          
           
             And
             when
             aspiring
             twiggs
             must
             be
             represt
             .
          
           
             If
             you
             would
             find
             what
             stocks
             will
             Graffs
             admit
             ,
          
           
             And
             how
             far
             Graffs
             their
             former
             names
             forget
             .
          
           
           
             Your
             Rural
             pleasures
             will
             excel
             the
             pride
          
           
             And
             riches
             of
             the
             great
             ;
             fame
             you
             'l
             deride
             .
          
           
             And
             city
             noise
             ,
             nor
             the
             unconstant
             wind
          
           
             Of
             Kings
             ,
             or
             Peoples
             favour
             stirs
             your
             mind
             .
          
        
         
           
             Thrice
             happy
             they
             who
             these
             delights
             pursue
             !
          
           
             For
             whether
             they
             their
             Plants
             in
             order
             view
             ,
          
           
             Or
             overladen
             boughs
             with
             props
             relieve
             ,
          
           
             Or
             if
             to
             forraign
             fruits
             new
             names
             they
             give
             ,
          
           
             If
             they
             rast
             of
             ev'ry
             Plum
             explore
             ,
          
           
             To
             eat
             at
             second
             course
             ,
             what
             would
             they
             more
             ?
          
           
             What
             greater
             happiness
             can
             be
             desir'd
             ,
          
           
             Then
             what
             by
             these
             diversions
             is
             acquir'd
             ?
          
        
         
           
             You
             who
             the
             beauty
             of
             your
             trees
             design
             ,
          
           
             To
             each
             along
             the
             walls
             its
             seat
             assign
             .
          
           
           
             Cherrys
             with
             Cherrys
             ,
             Figgs
             with
             Figgs
             may
             meet
             ,
          
           
             The
             Syrian
             and
             Crustumian
             Pears
             are
             fit
          
           
             To
             mingle
             with
             the
             Brittish
             ,
             but
             we
             find
          
           
             That
             Apples
             and
             red
             Plums
             must
             not
             be
             joyn'd
             .
          
           
             All
             that
             are
             of
             a
             sort
             together
             plant
             ,
          
           
             They
             must
             succeed
             if
             they
             no
             culture
             want
             .
          
           
             And
             when
             affairs
             of
             greater
             moment
             cease
          
           
             To
             set
             their
             stations
             be
             your
             business
             .
          
           
             For
             if
             they
             have
             not
             ample
             room
             to
             spread
          
           
             They
             then
             both
             strength
             and
             nourishment
             will
             need
             .
          
        
         
           
             But
             what
             the
             kinds
             and
             various
             natures
             are
          
           
             Of
             fruitful
             trees
             ,
             I
             must
             not
             now
             declare
             :
          
           
             Nor
             tell
             their
             different
             appearances
             ,
          
           
             Or
             how
             the
             Gardners
             art
             has
             with
             success
          
           
           
             Improv'd
             our
             Orchards
             ,
             what
             should
             I
             count
             ore
          
           
             Those
             fruits
             ,
             which
             Persia
             sent
             us
             heretofore
             ?
          
           
             Why
             or
             their
             taste
             should
             I
             relate
             ,
             or
             hue
             ,
          
           
             Which
             more
             illustrious
             by
             its
             purple
             grew
             ?
          
           
             Some
             of
             a
             thicker
             substance
             stick
             fast
             on
             ,
          
           
             While
             others
             which
             are
             thinner
             quit
             the
             stone
             .
          
           
             These
             last
             with
             Iuice
             and
             dewy
             Moisture
             swell
             ,
          
           
             And
             all
             the
             other
             sorts
             by
             much
             excell
             .
          
           
             Others
             there
             are
             which
             ,
             like
             the
             Plum
             ,
             are
             thin
             ,
          
           
             And
             have
             no
             down
             upon
             their
             naked
             skin
             .
          
           
             Their
             Species
             ,
             Forms
             ,
             nor
             Names
             I
             here
             must
             sing
             ;
          
           
             As
             those
             which
             the
             Avmenians
             once
             did
             bring
          
           
             From
             their
             high
             hills
             ,
             by
             native
             Blushes
             prais'd
             ;
          
           
             Or
             those
             which
             from
             great
             stones
             Alcinous
             rais'd
             .
          
           
           
             Tibur●ian
             Peaches
             I
             must
             here
             forget
             ,
          
           
             Then
             which
             Picenian
             ones
             were
             thought
             more
             sweer
             .
          
           
             Nor
             here
             at
             all
             of
             Quinces
             must
             I
             boast
             ,
          
           
             Which
             ,
             when
             they
             have
             no
             smell
             ,
             are
             valued
             most
             ,
          
           
             Chorrys
             ,
             which
             at
             first
             course
             are
             grateful
             still
             ;
          
           
             Or
             Figgs
             ,
             which
             heav'nly
             Nectar
             do
             distill
             .
          
           
             I
             here
             pass
             ore
             ,
             these
             from
             their
             taste
             obtain
          
           
             More
             honour
             ,
             then
             the
             mellow
             Apples
             gain
             .
          
        
         
           
             But
             Nature
             never
             show'd
             more
             wantonness
          
           
             Then
             ,
             when
             so
             many
             shapes
             she
             did
             impress
             ,
          
           
             From
             Wardens
             to
             the
             Pears
             which
             lesser
             grow
             ,
          
           
             And
             did
             to
             each
             its
             proper
             Iuice
             allow
             .
          
           
             Some
             imitate
             the
             brisk
             Falernian
             Wine
             ,
          
           
             Others
             ,
             like
             Must
             ,
             to
             sweetness
             more
             incline
             .
          
           
           
             In
             swelling
             some
             extravagant
             appear
             ;
          
           
             And
             crooked
             Necks
             with
             oblong
             bellys
             bear
             .
          
           
             To
             Plums
             and
             Grapes
             just
             commendations
             yeild
             ,
          
           
             If
             on
             the
             Wall
             they
             are
             by
             propt
             upheld
             .
          
           
             Muscat
             ,
             and
             Purple
             Vines
             ,
             which
             both
             observe
          
           
             Their
             wonted
             seasons
             ,
             may
             our
             praise
             deserve
             .
          
           
             The
             humble
             Strawberrys
             I
             would
             repeat
             ,
          
           
             Which
             are
             by
             nature
             with
             sweet
             Iuice
             repleat
             .
          
           
             And
             ,
             if
             I
             had
             but
             leisure
             ,
             I
             would
             sing
          
           
             The
             fragrant
             odours
             which
             from
             Melons
             spring
             .
          
        
         
           
             When
             Husbandmen
             give
             precepts
             to
             expand
          
           
             Their
             trees
             ,
             to
             imitate
             the
             spreading
             hand
             ,
          
           
             Or
             backbone
             of
             a
             Fish
             they
             sometimes
             chuse
             ,
          
           
             When
             er'e
             one
             Trunk
             the
             branches
             dos
             produce
             .
          
           
           
             Successful
             trialls
             both
             these
             ways
             have
             had
             :
          
           
             And
             therefore
             use
             of
             either
             may
             be
             made
             .
          
        
         
           
             You
             cannot
             be
             too
             often
             put
             in
             mind
          
           
             Of
             that
             advantage
             which
             your
             Plants
             will
             find
          
           
             By
             being
             prun'd
             :
             the
             boughs
             will
             thus
             obay
             ,
          
           
             And
             by
             your
             tool
             are
             fashion'd
             any
             way
             .
          
           
             Though
             tough
             with
             age
             ,
             they
             stoop
             to
             your
             command
             ,
          
           
             Nor
             can
             the
             crooked
             pruning
             Knife
             withstand
             .
          
           
             And
             when
             the
             Trees
             thus
             cut
             revive
             agen
             ,
          
           
             When
             from
             their
             wounds
             they
             borrow
             courage
             ,
             then
          
           
             Oft
             exercise
             your
             pow'r
             ,
             and
             so
             restore
          
           
             Beauty
             to
             that
             ,
             which
             was
             deform'd
             before
             .
          
           
             Youth
             unadvis'd
             dos
             in
             desire
             exceed
             :
          
           
             And
             would
             without
             all
             moderation
             breed
             .
          
           
           
             The
             Pruners
             care
             must
             succour
             each
             defect
             ,
          
           
             He
             with
             his
             hook
             their
             vices
             must
             correct
             .
          
           
             Superfluous
             shoots
             his
             servants
             may
             repress
             ;
          
           
             Destructive
             pity
             makes
             them
             more
             increase
             .
          
        
         
           
             But
             in
             what
             part
             they
             must
             be
             cut
             ,
             and
             how
             ,
          
           
             From
             the
             experienc'd
             you
             will
             better
             know
             ,
          
           
             Always
             untouch'd
             the
             chiefest
             branches
             save
             ,
          
           
             From
             whom
             you
             hope
             a
             future
             race
             to
             have
             .
          
           
             Now
             if
             the
             Season
             proves
             reciprocall
             ;
          
           
             You
             may
             behold
             your
             fruit
             upon
             the
             wall
             .
          
           
             Yours
             Gardens
             riches
             then
             will
             make
             you
             glad
             ;
          
           
             Nor
             think
             that
             any
             thing
             can
             colour
             add
             ,
          
           
             Or
             bigness
             to
             them
             ,
             but
             that
             influence
             ,
          
           
             Which
             on
             their
             ranks
             kind
             Phoebus
             do's
             dispence
             .
          
           
             Nature
             your
             wishes
             then
             will
             satisfy
             ,
          
           
             If
             with
             these
             Methods
             only
             you
             comply
             .
          
           
           
             And
             though
             we
             ripeness
             to
             our
             fruits
             impart
          
           
             By
             heat
             on
             walls
             reflected
             ,
             yet
             this
             art
          
           
             By
             the
             reports
             of
             dark
             antiquity
             ,
          
           
             In
             the
             records
             of
             time
             is
             set
             more
             high
             .
          
        
         
           
             And
             if
             we
             may
             at
             all
             our
             faith
             ingage
          
           
             To
             what
             we
             hear
             of
             the
             preceding
             age
             .
          
        
         
           
             Alcinous
             first
             ,
             who
             the
             Phoeacians
             swaid
             ,
          
           
             Thus
             to
             have
             cultivated
             Trees
             is
             said
             .
          
           
             His
             stores
             with
             usual
             plenty
             overflow'd
             ,
          
           
             And
             when
             the
             year
             its
             usual
             hope
             had
             show'd
             ,
          
           
             From
             the
             malicious
             North
             arose
             a
             blast
             ,
          
           
             Which
             in
             one
             night
             laid
             all
             the
             Garden
             wast
             ,
          
           
             If
             any
             Plant
             by
             fortune
             was
             retriv'd
             ,
          
           
             And
             ,
             in
             the
             fields
             ,
             the
             common
             fate
             surviv'd
             ;
          
           
             That
             ruine
             ,
             which
             by
             Boreas
             was
             begun
             ,
          
           
             Was
             finish'd
             by
             the
             spiteful
             Air
             and
             Sun.
          
           
           
             All
             through
             the
             sky
             unwonted
             tempests
             rore
             ,
          
           
             And
             horrid
             noises
             the
             clear
             Welkin
             tore
             .
          
           
             The
             greatest
             slaughter
             on
             the
             Orchard
             salls
             ;
          
           
             Struck
             with
             portents
             the
             King
             the
             Augurs
             calls
             ,
          
           
             The
             meaning
             of
             the
             prodigies
             inquires
             ,
          
           
             And
             their
             advice
             upon
             his
             loss
             desires
             .
          
           
             From
             Calais
             and
             Zethes
             some
             pretend
             ,
          
           
             (
             Both
             sprung
             from
             Boreas
             )
             that
             these
             plagues
             descend
             .
          
           
             The
             Kings
             alliance
             both
             of
             them
             had
             sought
             ,
          
           
             Nor
             were
             unworthy
             by
             the
             Mother
             thought
             :
          
           
             The
             Daughter
             too
             their
             passion
             had
             approv'd
             ,
          
           
             But
             neither
             were
             by
             Prince
             or
             People
             lov'd
             .
          
           
             Their
             Father
             vex'd
             to
             see
             his
             Sons
             deceiv'd
             ,
          
           
             By
             them
             perhaps
             had
             his
             revenge
             contriv'd
             .
          
           
             Because
             they
             both
             were
             angry
             with
             the
             King.
          
           
             Some
             from
             
               Atlantian
               Calypse
            
             bring
          
           
           
             These
             mischiefs
             .
             Circe
             only
             ,
             some
             accus'd
             .
          
           
             Calypso
             mindful
             how
             she
             was
             abus'd
          
           
             By
             the
             Phoeacians
             ,
             when
             Laertes
             she
          
           
             From
             drowning
             sav'd
             ,
             and
             boasted
             him
             to
             be
          
           
             Her
             right
             ,
             she
             then
             to
             be
             reveng'd
             ,
             decreed
          
           
             That
             Circes
             neighbourhood
             ,
             and
             hate
             might
             breed
          
           
             These
             ills
             some
             think
             ,
             that
             she
             the
             Moons
             aspect
          
           
             Had
             chang'd
             ,
             and
             did
             the
             purer
             air
             infect
             .
          
        
         
           
             But
             good
             Eurymedon
             ,
             who
             was
             the
             Priest
          
           
             Of
             Phoebus
             ,
             and
             a
             Prophet
             better
             ghest
             .
          
           
             Think
             not
             ,
             says
             he
             ,
             that
             our
             misfortunes
             flow
          
           
             From
             outward
             causes
             ,
             to
             our selves
             we
             owe
          
           
             Our
             dire
             mishaps
             ;
             nor
             did
             he
             longer
             speak
             .
          
           
             The
             King
             commands
             he
             should
             his
             silence
             break
             ,
          
           
           
             And
             bids
             him
             undiscover'd
             crimes
             recite
             .
          
           
             Then
             he
             ;
             The
             weight
             of
             our
             affairs
             permits
          
           
             Not
             many
             words
             ,
             when
             worse
             events
             are
             fear'd
             ,
          
           
             Appease
             the
             gods
             ,
             while
             prayers
             may
             be
             heard
             .
          
           
             The
             objects
             of
             their
             vengeance
             now
             we
             are
             ,
          
           
             When
             plenty
             fill'd
             his
             stores
             ,
             to
             his
             own
             cate
             ,
          
           
             And
             art
             ,
             Alcinous
             did
             ascribe
             his
             fruit
             .
          
           
             Madman
             that
             should
             the
             gifts
             of
             Heav'n
             dispute
             !
          
           
             That
             ,
             he
             the
             Sun
             and
             Winds
             should
             so
             neglect
             ,
          
           
             Nor
             his
             devotions
             to
             great
             Iove
             direct
             .
          
           
             Himself
             the
             criminal
             he
             then
             did
             find
             ,
          
           
             Accusing
             his
             prov'd
             thoughts
             and
             haughty
             mind
             .
          
        
         
           
             Strait
             he
             repairs
             to
             the
             Phoeacian
             wood
             ,
          
           
             Where
             the
             
               Hesperian
               Nymph
            
             had
             her
             abode
             ;
          
           
           
             Where
             she
             the
             Oracles
             of
             Heaven
             spoke
             ,
          
           
             Soon
             a
             soft
             voice
             the
             sacred
             silence
             broke
             .
          
           
             To
             mighty
             Iupiter
             twelve
             Bullocks
             pay
             :
          
           
             As
             many
             more
             on
             Titans
             Altars
             lay
             .
          
           
             Both
             Deity
             's
             have
             bin
             provok'd
             ;
             from
             them
          
           
             Our
             fruits
             ,
             and
             all
             other
             our
             blessings
             stream
             .
          
           
             They
             went
             ,
             and
             to
             great
             Iove
             twelve
             Bullocks
             paid
             :
          
           
             And
             twice
             six
             more
             on
             Titans
             altars
             laid
             .
          
           
             These
             rites
             Eurymedon
             ordain'd
             ,
             should
             be
          
           
             Yearly
             perform'd
             by
             their
             posterity
             .
          
        
         
           
             Taught
             by
             the
             Nymph
             Alcinous
             now
             immures
          
           
             His
             Orchards
             in
             ,
             and
             so
             his
             Plants
             secures
          
           
             From
             hurtful
             blasts
             ,
             and
             where
             they
             wanted
             heat
             ,
          
           
             Upon
             the
             Walls
             he
             makes
             the
             Sun-beams
             beat
             .
          
           
           
             This
             way
             of
             setting
             Trees
             arose
             from
             hence
             ;
          
           
             Which
             ,
             though
             th'
             Hesperians
             had
             forgot
             long
             since
             ,
          
           
             The
             Norman
             swains
             reviv'd
             again
             ;
             and
             shew'd
          
           
             Their
             Servants
             ,
             that
             their
             ground
             must
             be
             allow'd
          
           
             More
             warmth
             ,
             for
             the
             reflected
             Sun
             alone
             ,
          
           
             Could
             make
             their
             fruits
             attain
             perfection
             .
          
           
             From
             hence
             ,
             this
             art
             to
             Paris
             old
             advance
             ,
          
           
             And
             stretch'd
             it self
             through
             all
             the
             parts
             of
             France
             .
          
        
         
           
             You
             ,
             who
             my
             precepts
             hear
             ,
             this
             ornament
             ,
          
           
             Bestow
             upon
             your
             Gardens
             nor
             repent
          
           
             The
             building
             of
             long
             walls
             ,
             and
             them
             infold
          
           
             With
             the
             green
             tapistry
             ;
             no
             pains
             with-hold
             .
          
           
             And
             while
             you
             do
             the
             fruitful
             youth
             survay
             ,
          
           
             Or
             among
             leavy
             textures
             loose
             your
             way
             ;
          
           
           
             When
             you
             behold
             your
             thriving
             nurserys
             ,
          
           
             Cut
             all
             superfluous
             branches
             from
             your
             Trees
             .
          
           
             The
             masters
             hand
             improves
             the
             Orchard
             most
             :
          
           
             For
             he
             ,
             if
             any
             Plant
             its
             hold
             has
             lost
             ,
          
           
             Or
             hang
             ;
             he
             trims
             and
             ties
             it
             up
             again
             ;
          
           
             Thus
             the
             neat
             hedge
             its
             beauty
             dos
             regain
             .
          
           
             Vermin
             and
             Erwigs
             from
             the
             leaves
             he
             shakes
             ,
          
           
             And
             of
             those
             fruits
             before
             a
             trial
             makes
             ,
          
           
             Which
             he
             designs
             at
             second
             course
             to
             eat
             :
          
           
             The
             times
             of
             gathering
             he
             best
             can
             set
             .
          
           
             To
             the
             deserving
             praises
             he
             extends
             ;
          
           
             And
             those
             which
             are
             deceitful
             discommends
             .
          
        
         
           
             When
             once
             the
             ground
             is
             till'd
             ,
             the
             Gardner
             then
          
           
             Beginst
             '
             instruct
             the
             ruder
             Husbandmen
             .
          
           
             The
             taste
             and
             merit
             of
             each
             Tree
             he
             shows
             ,
          
           
             And
             by
             what
             Graffs
             the
             Parent
             better
             grows
             .
          
           
           
             For
             thus
             is
             he
             imploy'd
             ;
             while
             ev'ry
             where
          
           
             He
             visits
             all
             his
             wealth
             with
             equal
             care
             .
          
           
             No
             time
             is
             lost
             :
             the
             year
             with
             fruits
             is
             blest
             :
          
           
             Or
             else
             the
             boughs
             with
             blossoms
             are
             opprest
             .
          
           
             Nor
             slow
             nor
             idle
             lab'rers
             must
             you
             hire
             ,
          
           
             These
             works
             excess
             of
             diligence
             require
             .
          
           
             The
             stubborn
             Earth
             and
             Plants
             exact
             the
             same
             ,
          
           
             Which
             are
             by
             pains
             and
             culture
             only
             tame
             .
          
           
             A
             backward
             soil
             with
             rotten
             dung
             improve
             ,
          
           
             And
             often
             in
             the
             Sun
             the
             clods
             remove
             .
          
        
         
           
             If
             after
             this
             the
             year
             should
             prove
             unkind
             ,
          
           
             You
             must
             impute
             it
             to
             the
             spiteful
             wind
             .
          
           
             Whose
             pow'rful
             blasts
             all
             situations
             sway
             ,
          
           
             For
             still
             the
             ground
             dos
             Heav'ns
             command
             obey
             .
          
           
             Be
             kind
             ye
             winds
             ,
             so
             shall
             your
             altars
             share
          
           
             A
             part
             of
             that
             ,
             which
             you
             with
             pity
             spare
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             A
             thousand
             enemy
             's
             ,
             a
             thousand
             ills
          
           
             Ore
             Plants
             prevail
             :
             sometimes
             the
             bad
             air
             kills
          
           
             The
             hopes
             o
             th'
             Spring
             ,
             and
             therefore
             you
             must
             try
          
           
             With
             greatest
             care
             these
             threatning
             Plagues
             to
             fly
             .
          
           
             If
             that
             disease
             which
             springs
             from
             faulty
             air
             ,
          
           
             With
             its
             infection
             should
             your
             fruits
             impair
             ;
          
           
             The
             gods
             with
             vows
             and
             prayers
             supplicate
             ,
          
           
             No
             other
             remedy
             is
             left
             but
             that
             .
          
        
         
           
             To
             fell
             those
             Trees
             can
             be
             no
             loss
             at
             all
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             age
             and
             sickness
             would
             your
             Axe
             forestall
             .
          
           
             A
             youthful
             successour
             ,
             with
             better
             grace
             ,
          
           
             And
             plenty
             ,
             will
             supply
             the
             vacant
             place
             .
          
           
           
             Plants
             by
             their
             looks
             betray
             their
             strength
             and
             years
             ,
          
           
             If
             through
             the
             gaping
             rind
             the
             wood
             appears
             ,
          
           
             If
             dying
             leaves
             upon
             the
             boughs
             are
             seen
             ,
          
           
             While
             all
             the
             rest
             are
             flourishing
             and
             green
             :
          
           
             If
             they
             look
             pale
             ,
             then
             with
             your
             knife
             invade
          
           
             Those
             branches
             which
             afforded
             too
             much
             shade
             .
          
        
         
           
             Sometimes
             beneath
             the
             bark
             a
             Canker
             breeds
             ,
          
           
             Or
             burning
             Moss
             which
             like
             a
             scab
             o're
             spreads
          
           
             The
             trunk
             with
             cruel
             Venom
             ,
             these
             repress
          
           
             Before
             they
             reach
             the
             quick
             ,
             and
             ere
             they
             seize
          
           
             The
             inward
             parts
             ,
             before
             that
             all
             the
             race
          
           
             With
             a
             pernicious
             leaness
             they
             disgrace
             .
          
           
             If
             the
             exhausted
             spirits
             sail
             to
             do
          
           
             Their
             offices
             ,
             if
             they
             dengen'rate
             grow
             ,
          
           
             Dig
             up
             the
             Earth
             and
             with
             the
             dung
             of
             swine
          
           
             Or
             the
             hoarse
             Stock-dove
             make
             it
             then
             combine
          
           
           
             The
             hungry
             Mold
             must
             thus
             be
             satisfi'd
             .
          
           
             And
             those
             do
             well
             who
             in
             deep
             trenches
             hide
          
           
             Dry
             Leaves
             among
             their
             Dung
             ,
             with
             Fern
             ,
             or
             Broom
             ,
          
           
             Bean
             shales
             ,
             or
             dirty
             Ashes
             are
             by
             some
          
           
             Thrown
             on
             their
             fields
             ,
             all
             these
             the
             ground
             will
             aid
             ,
          
           
             But
             let
             it
             never
             be
             too
             fertile
             made
             .
          
           
             For
             as
             a
             Tree
             due
             nourishmen
             ;
             may
             want
             ,
          
           
             So
             too
             rich
             Soil
             destroys
             the
             tender
             Plant.
          
           
             And
             if
             you
             know
             not
             how
             a
             barren
             field
          
           
             Must
             be
             incourag'd
             ,
             and
             with
             pains
             be
             till'd
             ,
          
           
             Or
             if
             you
             would
             allay
             rich
             Mold
             ,
             that
             art
             ,
          
           
             The
             rules
             of
             culture
             fully
             will
             impart
             .
          
        
         
           
             When
             from
             swift
             clouds
             or
             rain
             descends
             ,
             or
             hail
             ,
          
           
             A
             thousand
             Plagues
             your
             Orchards
             will
             assail
             .
          
           
           
             As
             Gnats
             ,
             Worms
             ,
             Catorpillers
             which
             infold
          
           
             The
             boughs
             ,
             with
             buzzing
             Drones
             ,
             and
             Snails
             inroll'd
             ,
          
           
             Within
             their
             Shells
             made
             always
             circular
             ,
          
           
             Of
             Merops
             too
             ,
             and
             other
             Birds
             beware
             ,
          
           
             Which
             from
             the
             mischiefs
             that
             their
             Beaks
             effect
             ,
          
           
             Are
             Tigers
             call'd
             ;
             when
             these
             begin
             t'
             infect
          
           
             Your
             Nurseries
             ,
             they
             are
             a
             Pestilence
          
           
             With
             which
             no
             careful
             Gardner
             must
             dispence
             .
          
           
             With
             flying
             smoak
             these
             Enemys
             oppose
             ,
          
           
             And
             kill
             the
             Vermin
             on
             the
             Leaves
             and
             Boughs
             .
          
           
             Flys
             here
             ,
             and
             painted
             Lizards
             I
             omit
             ,
          
           
             With
             cunning
             Moles
             ,
             which
             still
             avoid
             the
             light
             ,
          
           
             And
             Mice
             ,
             who
             from
             their
             holes
             their
             thefts
             repeat
             ,
          
           
             All
             these
             with
             diff'rent
             Traps
             you
             must
             defeat
             ,
          
           
           
             As
             custom
             and
             experience
             teaches
             best
             .
          
           
             Nor
             ought
             I
             here
             more
             precepts
             to
             suggest
             ;
          
           
             I
             write
             not
             now
             to
             dull
             unskilful
             swains
             ,
          
           
             Such
             as
             of
             old
             till'd
             the
             Laurentine
             plains
             .
          
           
             All
             Husbandmen
             are
             now
             so
             artful
             grown
             ,
          
           
             That
             almost
             nothing
             can
             be
             further
             shown
          
           
             Of
             culture
             ,
             nothing
             can
             be
             found
             out
             more
             ,
          
           
             Then
             what
             has
             bin
             invented
             long
             before
             .
          
           
             My
             hasty
             Muse
             permits
             me
             not
             to
             write
          
           
             Of
             famous
             Gardens
             here
             or
             to
             recite
          
           
             Those
             noble
             Villa's
             ,
             which
             deserve
             my
             verse
             ,
          
           
             No●
             here
             my
             Countreys
             honours
             I
             rehearse
             .
          
           
             Ye
             Gardens
             therefore
             ,
             and
             your
             owners
             too
             ,
          
           
             Forgive
             me
             ,
             if
             you
             have
             not
             what
             's
             your
             due
             .
          
        
         
           
             When
             France
             her
             former
             riches
             shall
             regain
             ,
          
           
             If
             our
             affairs
             should
             prosper
             once
             again
             ;
          
           
           
             Then
             by
             the
             bounty
             of
             a
             lasting
             Peace
             ,
          
           
             Our
             labours
             may
             be
             crown'd
             with
             more
             success
             .
          
           
             The
             World
             of
             late
             in
             Warrs
             has
             bin
             ingag'd
             ,
          
           
             And
             stem
             Enyo
             through
             all
             Europe
             tag'd
             ;
          
           
             Famine
             ,
             and
             Pestilence
             ,
             and
             Feavers
             raign'd
             ,
          
           
             The
             blushing
             fields
             with
             civil
             Gore
             were
             stain'd
             .
          
           
             The
             gods
             were
             all
             averse
             ,
             who
             can
             remount
          
           
             Those
             crimes
             ,
             which
             do
             the
             reach
             of
             thought
             surmount
             .
          
           
             The
             violated
             Laws
             ,
             the
             broken
             faith
             ,
          
           
             And
             Nations
             guilty
             of
             their
             Sov'rains
             death
             ?
          
           
             And
             heavier
             ills
             then
             these
             had
             yet
             remain'd
             ,
          
           
             If
             Lewis
             from
             the
             gift
             of
             Heav'n
             obtain'd
             ;
          
           
             Had
             not
             with
             pow'rful
             arms
             ,
             and
             greater
             mind
             ,
          
           
             Repair'd
             our
             fortune
             ,
             ere
             it
             quite
             declin'd
             ,
          
           
             Then
             having
             stretch'd
             his
             bounds
             from
             shore
             to
             shore
             ,
          
           
             That
             he
             might
             arts
             and
             manners
             too
             restore
             ,
          
           
           
             And
             through
             the
             World
             the
             golden
             age
             renew
             ;
          
           
             The
             rains
             of
             Iustice
             great
             Lamon
             to
             you
          
           
             He
             gave
             ,
             and
             you
             ore
             his
             Tribunals
             plac't
             :
          
           
             When
             led
             by
             you
             Astroea
             shall
             ,
             at
             last
             ,
          
           
             Return
             to
             us
             agen
             ,
             as
             we
             have
             cause
          
           
             To
             hope
             from
             the
             beginnings
             of
             your
             Laws
             ;
          
           
             Then
             shall
             the
             Earth
             in
             her
             first
             glory
             be
             ;
          
           
             And
             those
             new
             arts
             and
             methods
             which
             by
             thee
          
           
             T'
             improve
             their
             Plants
             the
             Husbandmen
             receive
             ,
          
           
             Shall
             ever
             in
             thy
             native
             Soil
             survive
             .
          
        
         
           
             Thus
             much
             of
             Gardens
             ,
             I
             at
             Clermont
             sung
             ,
          
           
             In
             thee
             sweet
             Paris
             ;
             treading
             all
             along
          
           
           
             Those
             sacred
             steps
             ;
             which
             Virgil
             led
             before
             ,
          
           
             When
             blest
             in
             her
             affairs
             ,
             in
             her
             King
             more
             ,
          
           
             Ore
             willing
             Nations
             France
             began
             to
             sway
             :
          
           
             And
             made
             the
             universe
             her
             Pow'r
             obay
             .
          
        
         
           FINIS
           .
        
      
    
     
       
         
         
         
           THE
           TABLE
        
         
           Before
           the
           Reader
           make
           use
           of
           the
           Table
           ,
           he
           is
           desired
           to
           reforme
           in
           the
           Book
           the
           following
           
             Pages
             ,
             thus
          
           :
        
         
           
             
               
                 For
                 29
              
               
                 92
              
            
             
               
                 48
              
               
                 84
              
            
             
               
                 66
              
               
                 76
              
            
             
               
                 67
              
               
                 77
              
            
             
               
                 68
              
               
                 89
              
            
             
               
                 78
              
               
                 79
              
            
             
               
                 79
              
               
                 78
              
            
          
        
         
           
             
               A.
               
            
             
               Abricot
               ,
               Pag.
               203.
               
            
             
               Acanthus
               Branc
               Vrsine
               .
            
             
               Bears-foot
               30
               ,
               also
               ,
               Thorne
               100.
               118.
               
            
             
               Achilles's
               spear
               ,
               96.
               
            
             
               
               Aconite
               ,
               Herba
               Christi
               ,
               vide
               Anthora
               ,
               38.
               66.
               
            
             
               Adiantum
               ,
               Black-Oake
               .
            
             
               Ferne
               ,
               52.
               
            
             
               AEthiopis
               ,
               Ethiopian
               Mullein
               38.
               
            
             
               Alca●a
               ,
               Marsh-mallow
               ,
               118.
               
            
             
               Alcinous
               
                 the
                 Fable
              
               ,
               222.
               
            
             
               Alder
               ,
               87.
               94.
               
            
             
               Almond
               ,
               Fable
               of
               
                 Phillis
                 ,
                 196.
              
               
            
             
               Amaracus
               ,
               Majoran
               ,
               46.
               
            
             
               Amaranthus
               ,
               Velvet-flower
               ,
               59
            
             
               Amellus
               ,
               Shire-wort
               ,
               60.
               
            
             
               Amymona
               ,
               the
               Fable
               ,
               156.
               
            
             
               Anemonie
               ,
               and
               Fable
               ,
               67.
               
            
             
               Angelica
               ,
               59.
               
            
             
               Anthemis
               ,
               Camomil
               ,
               19.
               
            
             
               Anthora
               ,
               Wolfebane
               ,
               38.
               
            
             
               Antirrhinum
               ,
               Calves-snout
               ,
               31.
               
            
             
               Apium
               ,
               Parsley
               ,
               59.
               
            
             
               Apples
               ,
               197.
               203.
               
            
             
               April
               ,
               24.
               
            
             
               Aqueducts
               ,
               126.
               138
               ,
               139.
               v.
               
            
             
               Fountain
               ,
               &c.
               
            
             
               Aquilegia
               .
               Colombine
               ,
               37.
               
            
             
               
               Arcueil
               described
               ,
               138.
               
            
             
               Armeria
               ,
               Pinks
               ,
               59.
               
            
             
               Ash
               ,
               93.
               95
               ,
               96.
               
            
             
               Asphodel
               ,
               Daffodil
               ,
               36.
               
            
             
               After-Atticus
               ,
               Starwort
               ,
               60.
               
            
             
               Atalanta
               ,
               and
               
                 Fable
                 ,
                 107.
                 vide
              
               Oranges
               .
            
          
        
         
           
             
               B.
               
            
             
               Bafil
               ,
               32.
               
            
             
               Batrachium
               ,
               Crowfoot
               ,
               Cranesbill
               ,
               136.
               
            
             
               Bayes
               ,
               113.
               115.
               
               V.
               Daphne
               .
            
             
               Beech
               ,
               83.
               
            
             
               Bellaquea
               ,
               Fontain
               bleau
               ,
               172.
               174.
               
            
             
               Bellides
               ,
               Daisyes
               ,
               25.
               
            
             
               Berny
               ,
               141.
               
            
             
               Birds
               ,
               83.
               
            
             
               Blattaria
               ,
               
                 Moth
                 Mullein
              
               ,
               32.
               
            
             
               Blewbottle
               ,
               32.
               
            
             
               Box
               Knots
               ,
               8
               ,
               9
               ,
               10.
               61.
               
            
             
               Bupthalmum
               ,
               Oxe
               Eye
               ,
               60.
               
            
          
        
         
           
             
               C.
               
            
             
               Calamint
               ,
               136.
               
            
             
               Calendula
               ,
               Marigold
               ,
               60.
               
            
             
               
               Caltha
               ,
               March-Marigold
               ,
               27.
               
            
             
               Canales
               ,
               165.
               168.
               171.
               173.
               
               V.
               Fountains
               ,
               Waterworks
               ,
               Ponds
               .
            
             
               Canker
               ,
               231.
               
               V
               Infirmities
               .
            
             
               Caprifoile
               ,
               Honysuckle
               ,
               118.
               
            
             
               Carnations
               ,
               V.
               Gilliflowers
               ,
               53.
               
            
             
               Carpine
               ,
               Hornbeam
               ,
               119.
               
            
             
               Cascades
               ,
               162.
               165.
               
               V.
               Waterworks
               .
            
             
               Celandine
               ,
               Swallow-wort
               ,
               16.
               
            
             
               Centaury
               ,
               59.
               
            
             
               Cerynthe
               ,
               Hony-wort
               ,
               38.
               
            
             
               Cerrus
               ,
               Holme-Oke
               ,
               83
            
             
               Chamaedrys
               ,
               Germander
               ,
               55.
               
            
             
               Cherrys
               ,
               196.
               201.
               203.
               216.
               
            
             
               Chesnuts
               ,
               88.
               
            
             
               Chrysanthes
               ,
               Corn-Marigold
               ,
               46.
               
            
             
               Cicher
               ,
               Ciche
               ,
               30.
               
            
             
               Cicory
               ,
               59.
               
            
             
               Cityssus
               ,
               Shrub-Trefoile
               ,
               37.
               
            
             
               Clematis
               ,
               Periwinkle
               ,
               59.
               
            
             
               St.
               Cloud
               
                 described
                 and
                 celebrated
              
               ,
               35.
               146.
               
            
             
               Clytie
               ,
               Sunflower
               ,
               57.
               
            
             
               Colocasia
               ,
               Egiptian-Bean
               ,
               30.
               
            
             
               
               Colours
               ,
               210.
               
            
             
               Composts
               ,
               181.
               
               V.
               Dung.
               
            
             
               Conduits
               ,
               144.
               
               V.
               Fountains
               .
            
             
               Convolvulus
               ,
               Bindweed
               ,
               32.
               
            
             
               Conyza
               ,
               Fleabane
               ,
               59.
               136.
               
            
             
               Coriander
               ,
               59.
               
            
             
               Cornel
               ,
               87.
               93.
               
            
             
               Countrey
               life
               ,
               and
               Villa
               prais'd
               121.
               168.
               215.
               
            
             
               Cresse
               ,
               37.
               
            
             
               Crocus
               ,
               Saffron
               ,
               57.
               67.
               
            
             
               Crown-Imperial
               ,
               20.
               
            
             
               Cyanus
               ,
               Blew-bottle
               ,
               19.
               
            
             
               Cyclamen
               ,
               Sowbread
               ,
               14.
               
            
             
               Cymbalum
               ,
               Mountain
               Lilly
               ,
               45
            
             
               Cypresse
               100
               ,
               101.
               103.
               
            
             
               Cyrus
               ,
               183.
               
            
          
        
         
           
             
               D.
               
            
             
               Dalmatis
               ,
               the
               Fable
               ,
               V.
               Tulip
               .
            
             
               Daphne
               ,
               the
               fable
               ,
               
                 114.
                 
                 V.
              
               Bayes
               .
            
             
               Dauphine
               
                 his
                 birth
              
               ,
               175.
               
            
             
               December
               ,
               66.
               
            
             
               Delphinium
               ,
               Larkspur
               ,
               32.
               
            
             
               Distilling
               ,
               48.
               
            
             
               
               Dodona
               ,
               81.
               
            
             
               Dung
               ,
               209.
               232.
               
               V.
               Compost
               .
            
             
               Dwarf
               Trees
               ,
               205.
               
            
          
        
         
           
             
               E.
               
            
             
               Echium
               ,
               Scorpion
               grass
               ,
               52.
               
            
             
               Education
               ,
               212.
               
            
             
               Elme
               ,
               87
               ,
               88
               ,
               89.
               
            
             
               Eringo
               ,
               Sea-Holly
               ,
               58.
               
            
             
               Esculus
               ,
               a
               species
               of
               Oke
               ,
               84.
               
            
             
               Ewe
               ,
               87.
               
            
          
        
         
           
             
               F.
               
            
             
               Fabius
               ,
               183.
               
            
             
               Felling
               ,
               230.
               
            
             
               Fennel
               ,
               32.
               
            
             
               Figs
               ,
               201
               ,
               262
               ,
               206.
               
            
             
               Firre
               ,
               87.
               95.
               
            
             
               Flos
               Iovis
               ,
               Pansy
               ,
               26.
               
            
             
               Flora
               the
               Fable
               ,
               and
               her
               Rites
               ,
               6.
               29.
               
            
             
               Flowers
               1.
               their
               difference
               and
               variety
               ,
               10
               ,
               11.
               
               Culture
               27.
               62.
               65.
               
               Seasons
               ,
               11.
               63
               ,
               64.
               
               
                 Cautions
                 in
                 gathering
              
               ,
               47.
               
               Use
               48.
               50.
               
               Painting
               ,
               49.
               
            
             
               
               Flower
               de
               luce
               ,
               
                 Arms
                 of
              
               France
               ,
               55.
               V.
               Iris.
               
            
             
               Fountains
               ,
               Origin
               ,
               129.
               
               Qualities
               ,
               135.
               137.
               143.
               157.
               
               Artificial
               ,
               and
               Cisterns
               ,
               143.
               145
               ,
               146.
               
               Aqueducts
               ,
               Grotts
               ,
               Cascades
               ,
               Waterworks
               ,
               &c.
               
            
             
               Fountainbleau
               ,
               described
               and
               celebrated
               ,
               88.
               
            
             
               Fox-glove
               ,
               38.
               
            
             
               France
               ,
               its
               Orchards
               and
               
                 Productions
                 ,
                 178.
              
               
            
             
               Frogs
               ,
               169.
               
            
             
               Fruit
               ,
               192.
               
               Praecoce
               ,
               Tardy
               ,
               209.
               
               V.
               Wall-fruit
               .
            
             
               Fruitfulness
               ,
               208.
               
            
          
        
         
           
             
               G.
               
            
             
               Gardeus
               ,
               Soile
               ,
               3.
               
               Situation
               and
               Culture
               ,
               
                 4
                 ,
                 5.
              
               of
               old
               not
               so
               Elegant
               ,
               
                 6
                 ,
                 7.
              
               
            
             
               Garlands
               ,
               24
               ,
               26.
               48.
               
            
             
               St.
               Germains
               ,
               described
               and
               celebrated
               ,
               35
            
             
               Gelsemine
               ,
               100.
               104
               ,
               105.
               
            
             
               Granadil
               ,
               Passionflower
               ,
               52.
               
            
             
               Graffing
               and
               Graffs
               ,
               194.
               198.
               
            
             
               
               Greece
               ,
               195.
               
            
             
               Grotts
               ,
               V.
               Fountains
               ,
               Waterworks
               .
            
             
               Groves
               ,
               where
               to
               Plant
               ,
               
                 75.
                 119.
              
               infamous
               to
               destroy
               ,
               
                 81
                 ,
                 82.
                 
                 V.
                 Woods
                 .
              
            
          
        
         
           
             
               H.
               
            
             
               Halimus
               ,
               Sea-Purslane
               ,
               118.
               
            
             
               Hazle
               ,
               87.
               93.
               
            
             
               Hedges
               ,
               100.
               
            
             
               Hedysarum
               ,
               Hatchetfetches
               ,
               59
            
             
               Helle
               bore
               ,
               66.
               
            
             
               Hellen
               ,
               Elicampane
               ,
               37.
               
            
             
               Hemerocallis
               ,
               Day
               Lilly
               ,
               53.
               
            
             
               Henbane
               ,
               59.
               
            
             
               Hesperis
               ,
               Dames-Violet
               ,
               53.
               
            
             
               Horminum
               ,
               Clary
               ,
               59.
               
            
             
               Hornbeam
               ,
               100
               ,
               101.
               
            
             
               House-Leek
               ,
               31.
               
            
             
               Human
               Life
               ,
               161.
               
            
             
               Hyacinth
               ,
               Iacintb
               ,
               67.
               
            
             
               Hylas
               ,
               V.
               Isis.
               
            
             
               Hyosciamus
               ,
               60.
               
               
                 V.
                 Henbane
              
               ,
            
          
        
         
           
           
             
               I.
               
            
             
               Ianthis
               ,
               the
               Fable
               ,
               16.
               
            
             
               Ilex
               ,
               Scarlet-Oke
               ,
               84.
               
            
             
               Idustry
               ,
               187.
               
            
             
               Infirmities
               
                 of
                 Plants
                 ,
                 Vermine
              
               ,
               211.
               231.
               233.
               
            
             
               Influences
               ,
               11
               ,
               12.
               64.
               206
               ,
               207.
               
            
             
               Iris
               ,
               15.
               26.
               
               V.
               
                 Flower
                 de
                 lys
              
               ,
            
             
               Isis
               and
               Hylas
               
                 the
                 Fable
              
               ,
               149.
               
            
             
               Isopirum
               ,
               Water-Trefoile
               ,
               31.
               
            
             
               Iune
               ,
               57.
               
            
             
               Iuniper
               ,
               88.
               
            
          
        
         
           
             
               L.
               
            
             
               Lawrel
               ,
               66.
               100.
               
            
             
               Lewis
               XIV
               .
               celebrated
               ,
               173.
               184.
               235.
               
            
             
               Ligustrum
               ,
               Privet
               ,
               115.
               
            
             
               Lillies
               ,
               55.
               
            
             
               Linden
               ,
               
                 Lime
                 Tree
              
               ,
               87.
               90.
               
            
             
               Limon
               ,
               100.
               109.
               203.
               
            
             
               Linaria
               ,
               Toadflax
               ,
               37.
               
            
             
               Linum
               ,
               Gardenflax
               ,
               
                 19.
                 46.
              
               
            
             
               Liancourt
               ,
               141.
               164.
               172.
               
            
             
               Loire
               ,
               141.
               
            
             
               Lopping
               ,
               99.
               121.
               
            
             
               
               Lotus
               ,
               Nettle
               Tree
               ,
               87.
               
            
             
               Luxembourg
               ,
               146.
               
            
             
               Lychnis
               ,
               Wild
               Rose
               Campion
               ,
               19
            
             
               Lytrum
               ,
               Willow
               Herb
               ,
               38.
               
            
          
        
         
           
             
               M.
               
            
             
               Malva
               ,
               Wild
               Mallow
               ,
               46.
               
            
             
               Maple
               ,
               87.
               91.
               
            
             
               March
               Mallows
               ,
               59.
               
            
             
               Marsy
               as
               ,
               the
               Fable
               ,
               92.
               
            
             
               Massinissa
               ,
               184.
               
            
             
               Matricaria
               ,
               Featherfew
               ,
               54.
               
            
             
               Meadow
               Saffron
               ,
               19.
               
            
             
               Medune
               celebrated
               ,
               35.
               
            
             
               Meleagris
               ,
               checquer'd
               Daffedil
               ,
               52.
               
            
             
               Melilot
               ,
               Plaister
               Claver
               ,
               46.
               
            
             
               Melissa
               ,
               Balm
               ,
               59.
               
            
             
               Melons
               ,
               203.
               
            
             
               Merascus
               ,
               Mezereon
               ,
               67.
               
            
             
               Mint
               ,
               60.
               
            
             
               Mixture
               ,
               201.
               
            
             
               Moly
               ,
               Sorcerers
               Garliek
               ,
               31.
               
            
             
               
                 Momorancy
                 Vale
              
               celebrated
               ,
               35
            
             
               Moone
               ,
               193.
               
            
             
               
               Mulberry
               ,
               Fable
               of
               Pyramus
               and
               
                 Thisbe
                 ,
                 195.
                 201.
                 203.
              
               
            
             
               Myrtle
               ,
               26.
               100.
               111.
               
               
                 Saered
                 to
              
               Venus
               ,
               112.
               
            
          
        
         
           
             
               N.
               
            
             
               Nard
               ,
               31.
               
            
             
               Nailing
               ,
               219.
               
            
             
               Narcissus
               ,
               16.
               26.
               67.
               
            
             
               Narcissus
               of
               Iapan
               ,
               60
               ,
               61.
               
            
             
               Nigella
               ,
               Gith
               ,
               60
               ,
            
             
               November
               ,
               28.
               
            
             
               Nursery
               ,
               228
               ,
               229.
               
            
          
        
         
           
             
               O.
               
            
             
               Oake
               ,
               76.
               
               Culture
               ,
               Use
               84.
               
               Fable
               of
               
                 Rhoecus
                 ,
                 85.
                 
                 V.
                 Woods
                 ,
              
               Woods
               of
               
                 France
                 ,
                 97
                 ,
                 98.
              
               
            
             
               Oleander
               ,
               Rose-bay
               ,
               
                 100.
                 111.
                 113.
              
               
            
             
               Olives
               ,
               197.
               
            
             
               Ononis
               ,
               Rest-harrow
               ,
               46.
               
            
             
               Oranges
               ,
               106.
               ad
               110.
               
            
             
               Orthards
               ,
               Soil
               ,
               176.
               179.
               202.
               
               Situation
               ,
               180.
               205.
               
               Culture
               ,
               181
               ,
               186.
               187.
               
            
             
               Orchis
               ,
               Dog-stones
               ,
               55.
               
            
             
               
               Orobanche
               ,
               Broom-Rape
               ,
               54.
               
            
             
               Orpheus
               ,
               90.
               
            
          
        
         
           
             
               P.
               
            
             
               Painting
               Flowers
               ,
               V.
               Flowrs
               .
            
             
               Paliurus
               ,
               Christs
               Thorn
               ,
               118.
               
            
             
               Parsley
               ,
               30
            
             
               Parthenium
               ,
               Mayweed
               ,
               30.
               
            
             
               Peaches
               ,
               202.
               217.
               
            
             
               Piony
               and
               fable
               ,
               31.
               
            
             
               Pears
               ,
               197.
               200
               ,
               201
               ,
               202.
               216.
               218.
               
            
             
               Phalangium
               ,
               Spiderwort
               ,
               30.
               
            
             
               Philemon
               and
               Baucis
               ,
               91.
               
            
             
               Phillyraea
               ,
               Mock-privet
               ,
               
                 100.
                 103.
                 119.
              
               
            
             
               Pine
               ,
               87.
               92.
               
            
             
               Pitch-Tree
               ,
               87.
               
            
             
               Planting
               ,
               99.
               182.
               
            
             
               Plums
               ,
               204.
               216.
               196.
               200.
               
            
             
               Pomegranate
               ,
               115.
               ad
               118.
               
            
             
               Ponds
               ,
               165.
               
               V.
               Canales
               .
            
             
               Poplar
               ,
               96.
               
            
             
               Poppyes
               ,
               57.
               
            
             
               Primrose
               ,
               14.
               
            
             
               Pruning
               ,
               208.
               220.
               221.
               
            
          
        
         
           
           
             
               Q.
               
            
             
               Quiekbearn
               ,
               87.
               
            
             
               Quince
               ,
               201.
               203.
               
            
          
        
         
           
             
               R.
               
            
             
               Ranunculus
               ,
               Crowfoot
               ,
               26.
               
            
             
               Rhamnus
               ,
               Hartshorn
               ,
               
                 31.
                 118.
              
               
            
             
               Rhodanthe
               Fable
               ,
               vide
               Rose
               .
            
             
               Rivers
               celebrated
               ,
               161.
               
            
             
               Rivalets
               ,
               156.
               159.
               
            
             
               Rocks
               artificial
               ,
               145.
               
               V.
               Grotts
               ,
               Waterworks
               .
            
             
               Romans
               ,
               183.
               
            
             
               Rose
               and
               Fable
               of
               Rhodanthe
               ,
               38
               ,
               39.
               &c.
               
            
             
               Rosemary
               ,
               30.
               
            
             
               Rue
               ,
               30.
               
            
             
               Ruel
               described
               and
               celebrased
               ,
               151.
               163.
               
            
             
               Rumex
               ,
               Dock
               ,
               52.
               
            
             
               Ruscus
               ,
               Butchers
               Broom
               ,
               ●18
               .
            
             
             
               
               Water
               ,
               125.
               
               
                 How
                 to
                 find
              
               ,
               127.
               132.
               136.
               
               Expence
               ,
               133.
               139.
               
            
             
               Waterworks
               ,
               Grots
               ,
               Fountains
               ,
               153.
               155.
               
            
             
               Watermint
               ,
               26.
               
            
             
               Watering
               ,
               59.
               64.
               
            
             
               Weeds
               ,
               14.
               181.
               204.
               
            
             
               Winds
               ,
               12.
               192.
               229.
               
            
             
               Willow
               .
               201
            
             
               Withy
               .
               87.
               94.
               
            
             
               Woad
               ,
               59.
               
            
             
               Woods
               ,
               
                 their
                 planting
              
               ,
               75.
               77
               ,
               78
               79.
               120.
               
            
          
        
         
           
             
               Y.
               
            
             
               Yarrow
               ,
               46.