(Sweet solitude!) where warbling birds provoke The silent Muse, delicious rural seat
Of St. John, English Memmius, I presum'd To sing Britannic trophies, inexpert
Of war, with mean attempt! while he intent (So Anna's will ordains) to expedite His military charge, no leisure finds
To string his charming shell: but when return'd Consummate Peace shall rear her cheerful head, Then shall his Churchill, in sublimer verse, For ever triumph; latest times shall learn From such a chief to fight, and bard to sing.
Quam Gratiarum cura decentium O! O! labellis cui Venus insidet! Tu sorte felix: me Maria Macerat (ah miserum!) videndo: Maria, quæ me sidereo tuens Obliqua vultu per medium jecur
Trajecit, atque excussit omnes Protinus ex animo puellas. Hanc ulla mentis spe mihi mutuæ Utcunque desit, nocte, die vigil
Suspiro; nec jam vina somnos Nec revocant, tua dona, fumi.
AD HENRICUM ST. JOHN, ARMIG. 1706.
O qui recisa finibus Indicis Benignus herbæ, das mihi divitem
Haurire succum, et sauveolentes Sæpe tubis iterare fumos; Qui solus acri respicis asperum Siti palatum, proluis et mero,
Dulcem elaborant cui saporem Hesperii pretiumque, soles: Ecquid reponam muneris omnium Exors bonorum? prome reconditum, Pimplæa, carmen, desidésque Ad numeros, age, tende chordas. Ferri secundo mens avet impetu, Quà cygniformes per liquidum æthera, Te, diva, vim præbente, vates Explicuit venusinus alas:
Solers modorum, seu puerum trucem, Cum matre flavâ, seu caneret rosas Et vina, cyrrhæis Hetruscum Rite beans equitem sub antris.
At non Lyæi vis generosior Affluxit illi; sæpe licet cadum Jactet Falernum, sæpe Chiæ Munera, lætitiamque testæ. Patronus illi non fuit artium Celebriorum; sed nec amantior
Nec charus æquè. O! quæ medullas Flamma subit, tacitosque sensus! Pertentat, ut téque et tua munera Gratus recordor, mercurialium
Princeps virorum! et ipse Musæ Cultor, et usque colende Musis! Sed me minantem grandia deficit Receptus ægrè spiritus, ilia
Dum pulsat ima, ac inquietum Tussis agens sine more pectus. Altè petito quassat anhelitu; Funesta planè, ni mihi balsamum
Distillet in venas, tuæque Lenis opem ferat haustus uvæ. Hanc sumo, parcis et tibi poculis Libo salutem; quin precor, optima Ut usque conjux sospitetur, Perpetuo recreans amore.
Te consulentem militiæ super Rebus togatum. Macte! tori decus, Formosa cui Francisca cessit, Crine placens, niveoque collo!
* He was then secretary of war.
TO HENRY ST. JOHN, ESQ. 1706.
O THOU, from India's fruitful soil, That dost that sovereign herb 2 prepare, In whose rich fumes I lose the toil
Of life, and every anxious care: While from the fragrant lighted bowl I suck new life into my soul.
Thou, only thou! art kind to view
The parching flames that I sustain; Which with cool draughts thy casks subdue, And wash away the thirsty pain
With wines, whose strength and taste we prize, From Latian suns and nearer skies.
O! say, to bless thy pious love,
What vows, what offerings, shall I bring? Since I can spare, and thou approve,
No other gift, O hear me sing!
In numbers Phoebus does inspire, Who strings for thee the charming lyre. Aloft, above the liquid sky,
I stretch my wing, and fain would go Where Rome's sweet swain did whilom fly; And, soaring, left the clouds below; The Muse invoking to endue With strength his pinions, as he flew. Whether he sings great Beauty's praise, Love's gentle pain, or tender woes; Or choose, the subject of his lays,
The blushing grape, or blooming rose: Or near cool Cyrrha's rocky springs Mæcenas listens while he sings. Yet he no nobler draught could boast, His Muse or music to inspire, Though all Falernum's purple coast Flow'd in each glass, to lend him fire; And on his tables us'd to smile The vintage of rich Chio's isle. Mæcenas deign'd to hear his songs,
His Muse extoll'd, his voice approv'd: To thee a fairer fame belongs,
At once more pleasing, more belov'd. Oh! teach my heart to bound its flame, As I record thy love and fame.
This piece was translated by the reverend Thomas Newcomb, M. A. of Corpus Christi College, Oxon.
Teach me the passion to restrain,
As I my grateful homage bring; And last in Phoebus' humble train,
The first and brightest genius sing. The Muses' favourite pleas'd to live, Paying them back the fame they give. But oh! as greatly I aspire
To tell my love, to speak thy praise, Boasting no more its sprightly fire,
My bosom heaves, my voice decays; With pain I touch the mournful string, And pant and languish as I sing.
Faint Nature now demands that breath,
That feebly strives thy worth to sing! And would be hush'd, and lost in death,
Did not thy care kind succours bring! Thy pitying casks my soul sustain, And call new life in every vein.
The sober glass I now behold,
Thy health, with fair Francisca's join, Wishing her cheeks may long unfold
Such beauties, and be ever thine; No chance the tender joy remove, While she can please, and thou canst love.
Thus while by you the British arms
Triumphs and distant fame pursue; The yielding fair resigns her charms,
And gives you leave to conquer too; Her snowy neck, her breast, her eyes, And all the nymph becomes your prize. What comely grace, what beauty smiles! Upon her lips what sweetness dwells! Not Love himself so oft beguiles,
Nor Venus self so much excels. What different fates our passions share, While you enjoy, and I despair!
Maria's 3 form as I survey,
Her smiles a thousand wounds impart; Each feature steals my soul away,
Each glance deprives me of my heart! And chasing thence each other fair, Leaves her own image only there.
Although my anxious breast despair, And, sighing, hopes no kind return; Yet, for the lov'd relentless fair,
By night I wake, by day I burn! Nor can thy gifts, soft Sleep, supply, Or sooth my pains, or close my eye.
A POEM, IN TWO BOOKS. .... Honos erit huic quoque Pomo? BOOK I. WHAT Soil the apple loves, what care is due To orchats, timeliest when to press the fruits, Thy gift, Pomona, in Miltonian verse Adventurous I presume to sing; of verse
Nor skill'd, nor studious: but my native soil Invites me, and the theme as yet unsung.
Ye Ariconian knights, and fairest dames, To whom propitious Heaven these blessings grants, Attend my lays, nor hence disdain to learn, How Nature's gifts may be improv'd by art. And thou, O Mostyn, whose benevolence, And candour, oft experienc'd, me vouchsaf'd To knit in friendship, growing still with years, Accept this pledge of gratitude and love. May it a lasting monument remain Of dear respect; that, when this body frail Is moulder'd into dust, and I become
As I had never been, late times may know
I once was bless'd in such a matchless friend! Whoe'er expects his labouring trees should bend, With fruitage, and a kindly harvest yield, Be this his first concern, to find a tract Impervious to the winds, begirt with hills That intercept the Hyperborean blasts Tempestuous, and cold Eurus' nipping force, Noxious to feeble buds: but to the west Let him free entrance grant, let Zephyrs bland Administer their tepid genial airs;
Nought fear he from the west, whose gentle warmth Discloses well the Earth's all-teeming womb, Invigorating tender seeds; whose breath Nurtures the orange, and the citron groves, Hesperian fruits, and wafts their odours sweet Wide through the air, and distant shores perfumes. Nor only do the hills exclude the winds:
But when the blackening clouds in sprinkling showers Distil, from the high summits down the rain Runs trickling; with the fertile moisture cheer'd, The orchats smile; joyous the farmers see Their thriving plants, and bless the heavenly dew. Next let the planter, with discretion meet, The force and genius of each soil explore; To what adapted, what it shuns averse: Without this necessary care, in vain He hopes an apple-vintage, and invokes Pomona's aid in vain. The miry fields, Rejoicing in rich mould, most ample fruit Of beauteous form produce; pleasing to sight, But to the tongue inelegant and flat. So Nature has decreed: so oft we see Men passing fair, in outward lineaments Elaborate; less, inwardly, exact.
Nor from the sable ground expect success, Nor from cretaceous, stubborn and jejune : The Must, of pallid hue, declares the soil Devoid of spirit; wretched he, that quaffs Such wheyish liquors; oft with colic pangs, With pungent colic pangs distress'd he'll roar, And toss, and turn, and curse th'unwholesome draught, But, farmer, look where full-ear'd sheaves of rye Grow wavy on the tilth, that soil select
For apples: thence thy industry shall gain Ten-fold reward; thy garners, thence with store Surcharg'd, shall burst; thy press with purest juice Shall flow, which, in revolving years, may try Thy feeble feet, and bind thy faltering tongue. Such is the Kentchurch, such Dantzeyan ground, Such thine, O learned Brome, and Capel such, Willisian Burlton, much-lov'd Geers his Marsh, And Sutton-acres, drench'd with regal blood Of Ethelbert, when to th' unhallow'd feast Of Mercian Offa he invited came,
3 Miss Mary Meers, daughter of the late princi- To treat of spousals: long connubial joys
pal of Brazen-Nose College, Oxon.
He promis'd to himself, allur'd by fair
Elfrida's beauty; but, deluded, dy'd
In height of hopes-oh! hardest fate, to fall By show of friendship, and pretended love!
I nor advise, nor reprehend the choice Of Marcley-hill; the apple no where finds A kinder mould: yet 'tis unsafe to trust Deceitful ground: who knows but that, once more, This mount may journey, and, his present site Forsaking, to thy neighbour's bounds transfer The goodly plants, affording matter strange For law-debates? if therefore thou incline To deck this rise with fruits of various tastes, Fail not by frequent vows t' implore success; Thus piteous Heaven may fix the wandering glebe. But if (for Nature doth not share alike Her gifts) an happy soil should be withheld; If a penurious clay should be thy lot, Or rough unwieldy earth, nor to the plough, Nor to the cattle kind, with sandy stones And gravel o'er-abounding, think it not Beneath thy toil; the sturdy pear-tree here Will rise luxuriant, and with toughest root Pierce the obstructing grit, and restive marle. Thus nought is useless made; nor is there land, But what, or of itself, or else compell'd, Affords advantage. On the barren heath The shepherd tends his flock, that daily crop Their verdant dinner from the mossy turf, Sufficient; after them the cackling goose, Close-grazer, finds wherewith to ease her want. What should I more? Ev'n on the cliffy height Of Penmenmaur, and that cloud-piercing hill, Plinlimmon, from afar the traveller kens Astonish'd, how the goats their shrubby browze Gnaw pendent; nor untrembling canst thou sce, How from a scraggy rock, whose prominence Half overshades the ocean, hardy men, Fearless of rending winds, and dashing waves, Cut samphire, to excite the squeamish gust Of pamper'd luxury. Then, let thy ground Not lie unlabor'd; if the richest stem Refuse to thrive, yet who would doubt to plant Somewhat, that may to human use redound, And penury, the worst of ills, remove?
There are, who, fondly studious of increase, Rich foreign mould on their ill-natur'd land Induce laborious, and with fattening muck Besmear the roots; in vain! the nursling grove Seems fair a while, cherish'd with foster earth: But when the alien compost is exhaust, Its native poverty again prevails.
Though this art fails, despond not; little pains, In a due hour employ'd, great profit yield. Th' industrious, when the Sun in Leo rides, And darts his sultriest beams, portending drought, Forgets not at the foot of every plant To sink a circling trench, and daily pour A just supply of alimental streams, Exhausted sap recruiting; else false hopes He cherishes, nor will his fruit expect Th' autumnal season, but, in summer's pride, When other orchats smile, abortive fail.
1 February the seventh, 1571, at six o'clock in the evening, this hill roused itself with a roaring noise, and by seven the next morning had moved forty paces; it kept moving for three days together, carrying with it sheep in their cotes, hedgerows and trees, and in its passage overthrew Kinmaston Chapple, and turned two highways near an
Thus the great light of Heaven, that in his course Surveys and quickens all things, often proves Noxious to planted fields, and often men Perceive his influence dire; sweltering they run To grots, and caves, and the cool umbrage seek Of woven arborets, and oft the rills Still streaming fresh revisit, to allay Thirst inextinguishable: but if the spring Preceding should be destitute of rain, Or blast septentrional with brushing wings Sweep up the smoky mists, and vapours damp, Then woe to mortals! Titan then exerts His heat intense, and on our vitals preys; Then maladies of various kinds, and names Unknown, malignant fevers, and that foe. To blooming beauty, which imprints the face Of fairest nymph, and checks our growing love, Reign far and near; grim Death in different shapes Depopulates the nations; thousands fall
His victims; youths, and virgins, in their flower, Reluctant die, and sighing leave their loves Unfinish'd, by infectious heaven destroy'd.
Such heats prevail'd, when fair Eliza, last Of Winchcomb's name (next thee in blood and worth, O fairest St. John!) left this toilsome world In beauty's prime, and sadden'd all the year: Nor could her virtues, nor repeated vows Of thousand lovers, the relentiess hand Of Death arrest; she with the vulgar fell, Only distinguish'd by this humble verse.
But if it please the Sun's intemperate force To know, attend; whilst I of ancient fame The annals trace, and image to thy mind, How our forefathers, (luckless men!) ingulft By the wide-yawning Earth, to Stygian shades Went quick, in one sad sepulchre enclos'd.
In elder days, ere yet the Roman bands Victorious, this our other world subdued, A spacious city stood, with firmest walls Sure mounded, and with numerous turrets crown'd, Aerial spires, and citadels, the seat Of kings, and heroes resolute in war, Fam'd Ariconium: uncontrol'd and free, Till all-subduing Latian arms prevail'd. Then also, though to foreign yoke submiss, She undemolish'd stood, and ev'n till now Perhaps had stood, of ancient British art A pleasing monument, not less admir'd Than what from Attic, or Etruscan hands Arose; had not the heavenly Powers averse Decreed her final doom: for now the fields Labour'd with thirst; Aquarius had not shed His wonted showers, and Sirius parch'd with heat Solstitial the green herb: hence 'gan relax The ground's contexture, hence Tartarian dregs, Sulphur, and nitrous spume, enkindling fierce, Bellow'd within their darksome caves, by far More dismal than the loud disploded roar Of brazen enginry, that ceaseless storm The bastion of a well-built city, deem'd Impregnable: th' infernal winds, till now Closely imprison'd, by Titanian warmth hundred yards from their former position. The ground thus moved was about twenty-six acres, which opened itself, and carried the earth before it for four hundred yards space, leaving that which was pasture in the place of the tillage, and the till- age overspread with pasture. See Speed's Account of Herefordshire, page 49, and Camden's Britannia.
Dilating, and with unctuous vapours fed, Disdain'd their narrow cells; and, their full strength Collecting, from beneath the solid mass Upheav'd, and all her castles rooted deep Shook from their lowest seat: old Vaga's stream, Forc'd by the sudden shock, her wonted track Forsook, and drew her humid train aslope, Crankling her banks: and now the lowering sky, And baleful lightning, and the thunder, voice Of angry gods, that rattled solemn, dismay'd The sinking hearts of men. Where should they turn Distress'd? whence seek for aid? when from below Hell threatens, and ev'n Face supreme gives signs Of wrath and desolation? vain were vows, And plaints, and suppliant hands to Heaven erect! Yet some to fanes repair'd, and humble rites Perform'd to Thor, and Woden, fabled gods, Who with their votaries in one ruin shar'd, Crush'd, and o'erwhelm'd. Others in frantic mood Run howling through the streets; their hideous yells Rend the dark welkin; Horror stalks around, Wild-staring, and, his sad concomitant, Despair, of abject look: at every gate The thronging populace with hasty strides Press furious, and, too eager of escape, Obstruct the easy way; the rocking town Supplants their footsteps: to, and fro, they reel Astonish'd, as o'ercharg'd with wine; when lo! The ground adust her riven mouth disparts, Horrible chasm, profound! with swift descent Old Ariconium sinks, and all her tribes, Heroes, and senators, down to the realms Of endless night. Meanwhile, the loosen'd winds, Infuriate, molten rocks and flaming globes Hurl'd high above the clouds; till all their force Consum'd, her ravenous jaws th' Earth satiate clos'd. Thus this fair city fell, of which the name Survives alone; nor is there found a mark, Whereby the curious passenger may learn Her ample site, save coins, and mouldering urns, And huge unwieldy bones, lasting remains Of that gigantic race; which, as he breaks The clotted glebe, the ploughman haply finds, Appall'd. Upon that treacherous tract of land, She whilome stood; now Ceres, in her prime, Smiles fertile, and with ruddiest freight bedeek'd, The apple-tree, by our forefathers blood Improv'd, that now recalls the devious Muse, Urging her destin'd labours to pursue.
The prudent will observe, what passions reign In various plants (for not to man alone, But all the wide creation, Nature gave Love, and aversion) everlasting hate The Vine to Ivy bears, nor less abhors
The Colewort's rankness; but with amorous twine Clasps the tall Elm: the Pæstan Rose unfolds Her bud more lovely, near the fetid Leek, (Crest of stout Britons) and enhances thence The price of her celestial scent: the Gourd, And thirsty Cucumber, when they perceive Th' approaching Olive, with resentment fly Her fatty fibres, and with tendrils creep Diverse, detesting contact; whilst the Fig Contemns not Rue, nor Sage's humble leaf, Close-neighbouring: th' Herefordian plant Caresses freely the contiguous Peach, Hazel, and weight-resisting Palm, and likes T'approach the Quince, and the Elder's pithy stem; Uneasy, seated by funereal Yew,
Or Walnut, (whose malignant touch impairs
All generous fruits) or near the bitter dews Of Cherries. Therefore weigh the habits well Of plants, how they associate best, nor let Ill neighbourhood corrupt thy hopeful graffs. Would'st thou thy vats with gen'rous juice should froth?
Respect thy orchats; think not, that the trees Spontaneous will produce an wholesome draught. Let Art correct thy breed: from parent bough A cion meetly sever: after, force
A way into the crabstock's close-wrought grain By wedges, and within the living wound Enclose the foster twig; nor over-nice Refuse with thy own hands around to spread The binding clay: ere-long their differing veins Unite, and kindly nourishment convey To the new pupil; now he shoots his arms With quickest growth; now shake the teeming trunk, Down rain th' empurpled balls, ambros al fruit. Whether the Wilding's fibres are contriv'd To draw th' earth's purest spirit, and resist It's feculence, which in more porous stocks Of cider-plants finds passage free, or else The native verjuice of the Crab, deriv'd Through th' infix'd graff, a grateful mixture forms Of tart and sweet; whatever be the cause, This doubtful progeny by nicest tastes Expected best acceptance finds, and pays Largest revenues to the orchat-lord.
Some think the Quince and Apple would combine In happy union; others fitter deem The Sloe-stem bearing Sylvan Plumbs austere. Who knows but both may thrive? howe'er, what loss To try the powers of both, and search how far Two different natures may concur to mix In close embraces, and strange offspring bear? Thou 'lt find that plants will frequent changes try, Undamag'd, and their marriageable arms Conjoin with others. So Silurian plants Admit the Peach's odoriferous globe,
And Pears of sundry forms; at different times Adopted Plumbs will alien branches grace; And men have gather'd from the Hawthorn's branch Large Medlars, imitating regal crowns.
Nor is it hard to beautify each month With files of parti-colour'd fruits, that please The tongue, and view, at once. So Maro's Muse, Thrice sacred Muse! commodious precepts gives Instructive to the swains, not wholly bent On what is gainful: sometimes she diverts From solid counsels, shows the force of love In savage beasts; how virgin face divine Attracts the helpless youth through storms and Alone, in deep of night: then she describes The Scythian winter, nor disdains to sing How under ground the rude Riphæan race Mimic brisk Cyder with the brakes product wild; Sloes pounded, Hips, and Servis' harshest juice. Let sage Experience teach thee all the arts Of grafting and in-eyeing; when to lop The flowing branches; what trees answer best From root, or kernel: she will best the hours Of harvest, and seed-time declare; by her The different qualities of things were found, And secret motions; how with heavy bulk Volatile Hermes, fluid and unmoist, Mounts on the wings of air; to her we owe The Indian weed 2, unknown to ancient times,
Nature's choice gift, whose acrimonious fume Extracts superfluous juices, and refines The blood distemper'd from its noxious salts; Friend to the spirits, which with vapours bland It gently mitigates, companion fit
Of pleasantry, and wine; nor to the bards Unfriendly, when they to the vocal shell Warble melodious their well-labour'd songs. She found the polish'd glass, whose small convex Enlarges to ten millions of degrees
The mite, invisible else, of Nature's hand Least animal; and shows, what laws of life The cheese-inhabitants observe, and how Fabric their mansions in the harden'd milk, Wonderful artists! But the hidden ways
Of Nature would'st thou know? how first she frames All things in miniature? Thy specular orb Apply to well-dissected kernels; lo! Strange forms arise, in each a little plant Unfolds its boughs: observe the slender threads Of first beginning trees, their roots, their leaves, In narrow seeds describ'd; thou'lt wondering say, An inmate orchat every apple boasts. Thus all things by experience are display'd, And most improv'd. Then sedulously think To meliorate thy stock; no way, or rule, Be unassay'd; prevent the morning star Assiduous, nor with the western Sun Surcease to work; lo! thoughtful of thy gain, Not of my own, I all the live-long day Consume in meditation deep, recluse From human converse, nor, at shut of eve, Enjoy repose; but oft at midnight lamp Ply my brain-racking studies, if by chance Thee I may counsel right; and oft this care Disturbs me slumbering. Wilt thou then repine To labour for thyself? and rather choose To lie supinely, hoping Heaven will bless Thy slighted fruits, and give thee bread unearn'd? 'Twill profit, when the stork, sworn foe of snakes, Returns, to show compassion to thy plants, Fatigu'd with breeding. Let the arched knife Well sharpen'd now assail the spreading shades Of vegetables, and their thirsty limbs Dissever: for the genial moisture, due To apples, otherwise mispends itself In barren twigs, and for th' expected crop, Nought but vain shoots, and empty leaves abound. When swelling buds their odorous foliage shed, And gently harden into fruit, the wise Spare not the little offsprings, if they grow Redundant; but the thronging clusters thin By kind avulsion: else the starveling brood, Void of sufficient sustenance, will yield A slender autumn; which the niggard soul Too late shall weep, and curse his thrifty hand, That would not timely ease the ponderous boughs. It much conduces, all the cares to know Of gardening, how to scare nocturnal thieves, And how the little race of birds that hop From spray to spray, scooping the costliest fruit Insatiate, undisturb'd. Priapus' form Avails but little; rather guard each row With the false terrours of a breathless kite. This done, the timorous flock with swiftest wing Scud through the air; their fancy represents His mortal talons, and his ravenous beak Destructive; glad to shun his hostile gripe, They quit their thefts, and unfrequent the fields. Besides, the filthy swine will oft invade
Thy firm enclosure, and with delving snout The rooted forest undermine: forthwith Halloo thy furious mastiff, bid him vex The noxious herd, and print upon their ears A sad memorial of their past offence.
The flagrant Procyon will not fail to bring Large shoals of slow house-bearing snails, that creep O'er the ripe fruitage, paring slimy tracts In the sleek rinds, and unprest Cider drink. No art averts this pest; on thee it lies, With morning and with evening hand to rid The preying reptiles; nor, if wise, wilt thou Decline this labour, which itself rewards With pleasing gain, whilst the warm limbec draws Salubrious waters from the nocent brood.
Myriads of wasps now also clustering hang, And drain a spurious honey from thy groves, Their winter food; though oft repuls'd, again They rally, undismay'd; but fraud with ease Ensnares the noisome swarms; let every bough Bear frequent vials, pregnant with the dregs Of Moyle, or Mum, or Treacle's viscous juice; They, by th' alluring odour drawn, in haste Fly to the dulcet cates, and crowding sip Their palatable bane; joyful thou 'It see The clammy surface all o'erstrown with tribes Of greedy insects, that with fruitless toil Flap filmy pennons oft, to extricate Their feet, in liquid shackles bound, till death Bereave them of their worthless souls: such door Waits luxury, and lawless love of gain!
Howe'er thou may'st forbid external force, Intestine evils will prevail; damp airs, And rainy winters, to the centre pierce The firmest fruits, and by unseen decay The proper relish vitiate: then the grub Oft unobserv'd invades the vital core, Pernicious tenant, and her secret cave Enlarges hourly, preying on the pulp Ceaseless; meanwhile the apple's outward form Delectable the witless swain beguiles, Till, with a writhen mouth, and spattering noise, He tastes the bitter morsel, and rejects Disrelish'd; not with less surprise, than when Embattled troops with flowing banners pass Through flowery meads delighted, nor distrust The smiling surface; whilst the cavern'd ground, With grain incentive stor'd, by sudden blaze Bursts fatal, and involves the hopes of war, In fiery whirls; full of victorious thoughts, Torn and dismember'd, they aloft expire.
Now turn thine eye to view Alcinous' groves, The pride of the Phæacian isle, from whence, Sailing the spaces of the boundless deep, To Ariconium precious fruits arriv'd: The Pippin burnish'd o'er with gold, the Moyle Of sweetest honied taste, the fair Permain Temper'd, like comliest nymph, with red and white Salopian acres flourish with a growth Peculiar, styl'd the Ottley: be thou first This apple to transplant; if to the name Its merit answers, no where shalt thou find A wine more priz'd, or laudable of taste. Nor does the Eliot least deserve thy care, Nor John-Apple, whose wither'd rind, intrencht With many a furrow, aptly represents Decrepid age, nor that from Harvey nam'd, Quick-relishing: why should we sing the Thrift Codling, or Pomroy, or of pimpled coat The Russet, or the Cat's-Head's weighty orb,
« ZurückWeiter » |