 | Miscellanies (1785) |  |
99
THE ROSE-TREE, THE GARDENER, AND THE SHRUBS.
TO HER GRACE THE DUCHESS OF DEVONSHIRE With the Author's Works collected into Volumes.
A rose-tree, exquisitely fair,
With sweets embalm'd the passing air:
In vermeil tints and tender dyes,
It match'd the blush of morning skies,
And soft beneath its shade was found
A shelter for the flow'rets round;
The humblest primrose of the dale
There sought a refuge from the gale;
For vain the ruder storms oppose
What's shelter'd by this lovely Rose;
And vain shall gusts of envy blow,
Where Shrubs in soft protection grow.
With sweets embalm'd the passing air:
In vermeil tints and tender dyes,
It match'd the blush of morning skies,
And soft beneath its shade was found
A shelter for the flow'rets round;
The humblest primrose of the dale
There sought a refuge from the gale;
For vain the ruder storms oppose
What's shelter'd by this lovely Rose;
And vain shall gusts of envy blow,
Where Shrubs in soft protection grow.
100
A Gard'ner leaning on his spade
By chance this lovely Rose survey'd,
And oh! said he, how oft with toil
These hands have till'd Parnassian soil;
How oft Poetic ground I've trod,
Obedient to the Muses nod;
How long have thrown my plants about,
Till scarce I find the nurselings out!
'Tis time that all were rang'd together,
And safely fenc'd from wind and weather;
For ill they brook the public storm,
And ask some southern aspect warm.
But scatter'd thus in wild disorder,
Without the safe-guard of a border,
They seem like Briars by the road
To want a visible abode,
And stand expos'd to every thief
Who strips the Laurel of its leaf.
By chance this lovely Rose survey'd,
And oh! said he, how oft with toil
These hands have till'd Parnassian soil;
How oft Poetic ground I've trod,
Obedient to the Muses nod;
How long have thrown my plants about,
Till scarce I find the nurselings out!
'Tis time that all were rang'd together,
And safely fenc'd from wind and weather;
For ill they brook the public storm,
And ask some southern aspect warm.
But scatter'd thus in wild disorder,
Without the safe-guard of a border,
They seem like Briars by the road
To want a visible abode,
And stand expos'd to every thief
Who strips the Laurel of its leaf.
Now yonder Rose that looks so fair,
Ah! my poor plants that ye might share
Such shelter; and tho' weak ye be,
How would you thrive near yonder tree?
Ah! my poor plants that ye might share
101
How would you thrive near yonder tree?
The gen'rous Rose-Tree bloom'd consent,
And to his task our Gard'ner went;
And tho' faint Pinks and Field Flow'rs wild
And useless Furze the wreath compil'd,
A fancy Lilac fring'd with Rhyme,
Hawthorn and variegated Thyme,
With here and there of Bays a sprig,
A Cypress bough and Myrtle twig,
Mixt with full many a weed that grows,
Where'er a mortal flow'ret blows.
Still the fair Rose-Tree smil'd benign,
As guardian goddess of the scene,
And the slight Garland which he plann'd,
Accepted from our Gard'ner's hand.
And to his task our Gard'ner went;
And tho' faint Pinks and Field Flow'rs wild
And useless Furze the wreath compil'd,
A fancy Lilac fring'd with Rhyme,
Hawthorn and variegated Thyme,
With here and there of Bays a sprig,
A Cypress bough and Myrtle twig,
Mixt with full many a weed that grows,
Where'er a mortal flow'ret blows.
Still the fair Rose-Tree smil'd benign,
As guardian goddess of the scene,
And the slight Garland which he plann'd,
Accepted from our Gard'ner's hand.
| Miscellanies (1785) | |