 | Trifles |  |
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CANTO THE SECOND.
ARGUMENT.
Of different soils, and their culture. Mr. Tull's principles and practice. Of the principles and practice of the Middlesex gardeners. Of various manures, and other methods of improving lands. Of hedging and ditching. Of planting timber trees. Of draining wet, and flooding dry lands. Of gardening, and the gardens of Epicurus.
Descending now from these superior themes,
O Muse, in notes familiar, teach the swain
The hidden properties of every glebe,
And what the different Culture each requires,
The Naturalist, to sand, or loam, or clay,
Reduces all the varying soils, which cloathe
The bosom of this earth with beauty. Sand,
Hot, open, loose, admits the genial ray
With freedom, and with greediness imbibes
The falling moisture: hence the embrio seeds,
Lodg'd in its fiery womb, push into life
With early haste, and hurry'd to their prime,
(Their vital juices spent) too soon decay.
Correct this error of the ardent soil,
With cool manure: let stiff cohesive clay
Give the loose glebe consistence, and firm strength:
So shall thy labouring steers, when harvest calls,
Bending their patient shoulders to the yoke,
Drag home in copious loads the yellow grain.
O Muse, in notes familiar, teach the swain
The hidden properties of every glebe,
And what the different Culture each requires,
The Naturalist, to sand, or loam, or clay,
Reduces all the varying soils, which cloathe
The bosom of this earth with beauty. Sand,
Hot, open, loose, admits the genial ray
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The falling moisture: hence the embrio seeds,
Lodg'd in its fiery womb, push into life
With early haste, and hurry'd to their prime,
(Their vital juices spent) too soon decay.
Correct this error of the ardent soil,
With cool manure: let stiff cohesive clay
Give the loose glebe consistence, and firm strength:
So shall thy labouring steers, when harvest calls,
Bending their patient shoulders to the yoke,
Drag home in copious loads the yellow grain.
Has Fortune fix'd thy lot to toil in clay?
Despair not, nor repine: the stubborn soil
Shall yield to Cultivation, and reward
The hand of Diligence. Here give the plough
No rest. Break, pound the clods, and with warm dungs
Relieve the steril coldness of the ground,
Chill'd with obstructed water. Add to these
The sharpest sand, to open and unbind
The close-cohering mass; so shall new pores
Admit the solar beam's enlivening heat,
The nitrous particles of air receive,
And yield a passage to the soaking rain.
Hence fermentation, hence prolific power,
And hence the fibrous roots, in quest of food,
Find unobstructed entrance, room to spread,
And richer juices feed the swelling shoots:
So the strong field shall to the reaper's hand
Produce a plenteous crop of waving wheat.
Despair not, nor repine: the stubborn soil
Shall yield to Cultivation, and reward
The hand of Diligence. Here give the plough
No rest. Break, pound the clods, and with warm dungs
Relieve the steril coldness of the ground,
Chill'd with obstructed water. Add to these
The sharpest sand, to open and unbind
The close-cohering mass; so shall new pores
Admit the solar beam's enlivening heat,
The nitrous particles of air receive,
And yield a passage to the soaking rain.
Hence fermentation, hence prolific power,
And hence the fibrous roots, in quest of food,
Find unobstructed entrance, room to spread,
And richer juices feed the swelling shoots:
So the strong field shall to the reaper's hand
Produce a plenteous crop of waving wheat.
But blest with ease, in plenty shall he live,
Whom Heav'n's kind hand, indulgent to his wish,
Hath plac'd upon a loamy soil. He views
All products of the teeming earth arise
In plenteous crops, nor scarce the needful aid
Of Culture deigns to ask. Him, nor the fears
Of scorching heat, nor deluges of rain
Alarm. His kindly fields sustain all change
Of seasons, and support a healthy seed,
In vigour thro' the perils of the year.
Whom Heav'n's kind hand, indulgent to his wish,
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All products of the teeming earth arise
In plenteous crops, nor scarce the needful aid
Of Culture deigns to ask. Him, nor the fears
Of scorching heat, nor deluges of rain
Alarm. His kindly fields sustain all change
Of seasons, and support a healthy seed,
In vigour thro' the perils of the year.
But new improvements curious would'st thou learn?
Hear then the lore of fair Berkeria's Son,
Whose precepts, drawn from sage experience, claim
Regard. The pasture, and the food of plants,
First let the young Agricolist be taught:
Then how to sow, and raise the embrio seeds
Of every different species. Nitre, Fire,
Air, Water, Earth, their various powers combine
In Vegetation; but the genuine food
Of every plant is earth: hence their increase,
Their strength, and substance. Nitre first prepares
And separates the concreted parts; which then
The watry vehicle assumes, and thro'
Th' ascending tubes, impell'd by subtil air,
Which gives it motion, and that motion heat,
The fine terrestrial aliment conveys.
Hear then the lore of fair Berkeria's Son,
Whose precepts, drawn from sage experience, claim
Regard. The pasture, and the food of plants,
First let the young Agricolist be taught:
Then how to sow, and raise the embrio seeds
Of every different species. Nitre, Fire,
Air, Water, Earth, their various powers combine
In Vegetation; but the genuine food
Of every plant is earth: hence their increase,
Their strength, and substance. Nitre first prepares
And separates the concreted parts; which then
The watry vehicle assumes, and thro'
Th' ascending tubes, impell'd by subtil air,
Which gives it motion, and that motion heat,
The fine terrestrial aliment conveys.
Is earth the food of plants? their pasture then
Is earth's inverted surface. This the swain,
By ceaseless tillage, or the use of dung,
Must or ferment, or pulverize, to fit
For due reception of the fibrous roots:
But from the streams of ordure, from the stench
Of putrefaction, from stercoreous fumes
Of rottenness and filth, can sweetness spring?
Or grateful, or salubrious food to man?
As well might virgin innocence preserve
Her purity from taint, amid the stews.
Defile not then the freshness of thy field
With dung's polluting touch; but let the plough,
The hoe, the harrow, and the roller, lend
Their better powers, to fructifie the soil;
Turn it to catch the sun's prolific ray,
Th' enlivening breath of air, the genial dews,
And every influence of indulgent heaven.
These shall enrich and fertilize the glebe,
And Toil's unceasing hand full well supply
The dunghill's sordid and extraneous aid.
Is earth's inverted surface. This the swain,
By ceaseless tillage, or the use of dung,
Must or ferment, or pulverize, to fit
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But from the streams of ordure, from the stench
Of putrefaction, from stercoreous fumes
Of rottenness and filth, can sweetness spring?
Or grateful, or salubrious food to man?
As well might virgin innocence preserve
Her purity from taint, amid the stews.
Defile not then the freshness of thy field
With dung's polluting touch; but let the plough,
The hoe, the harrow, and the roller, lend
Their better powers, to fructifie the soil;
Turn it to catch the sun's prolific ray,
Th' enlivening breath of air, the genial dews,
And every influence of indulgent heaven.
These shall enrich and fertilize the glebe,
And Toil's unceasing hand full well supply
The dunghill's sordid and extraneous aid.
Thus taught the Shalborne Swain; who first with skill
Led through the fields the many-coulter'd plough;
Who first his seed committed to the ground.
Shed from the drill by flow revolving wheels,
In just proportion and in even rows;
Leaving 'twixt each a spacious interval,
To introduce with ease, while yet the grain
Expanding crown'd the intermediate ridge,
His new machine; form'd to exterminate
The weedy race, (intruders who devour,
But nothing pay) to pulverize the soil,
Enlarge and change the pasture of the roots,
And to its last perfection raise the crop.
He taught, alas, but practis'd ill the lore
Of his own precepts. Fell Disease, or Sloth
Relax'd the hand of industry: his Farm,
His own philosophy disgracing, brought
Discredit on the doctrines he enforc'd.
Led through the fields the many-coulter'd plough;
Who first his seed committed to the ground.
Shed from the drill by flow revolving wheels,
In just proportion and in even rows;
Leaving 'twixt each a spacious interval,
To introduce with ease, while yet the grain
Expanding crown'd the intermediate ridge,
His new machine; form'd to exterminate
The weedy race, (intruders who devour,
But nothing pay) to pulverize the soil,
Enlarge and change the pasture of the roots,
And to its last perfection raise the crop.
He taught, alas, but practis'd ill the lore
120
Relax'd the hand of industry: his Farm,
His own philosophy disgracing, brought
Discredit on the doctrines he enforc'd.
Then banish from thy fields the loiterer Sloth;
Nor listen to the voice of thoughtless Ease.
Him sordidness and penury surround,
Beneath whose lazy hand the farm runs wild;
Whose heart nor feels the joy improvement gives
Nor leaden eye the beauties that arise
From labour, sees. Accumulated filth
Annoys his crowded steps; even at his door
A yellow mucus from the dunghill stands
In squalid pools; his buildings unrepair'd,
To ruin rush precipitate; his fields
Disorder governs, and licentious weeds
Spring up uncheck'd: the nettle and the dock,
Wormwood and thistles, in their seasons rise,
And deadly nightshade spreads his poison round.
Ah! wretched he! if chance his wandering child,
By hunger prompted, pluck th' alluring fruit!
Benumning stupor creeps upon his brain;
Wild grinning laughter soon to this succeeds;
Strange madness then, and death in hideous form,
Mysterious Providence! ah, why conceal'd
In such a tempting form, should poisons lurk;
Ah, why so near the path of innocents,
Should spring their bane? But Thou alone art wise.
Nor listen to the voice of thoughtless Ease.
Him sordidness and penury surround,
Beneath whose lazy hand the farm runs wild;
Whose heart nor feels the joy improvement gives
Nor leaden eye the beauties that arise
From labour, sees. Accumulated filth
Annoys his crowded steps; even at his door
A yellow mucus from the dunghill stands
In squalid pools; his buildings unrepair'd,
To ruin rush precipitate; his fields
Disorder governs, and licentious weeds
Spring up uncheck'd: the nettle and the dock,
Wormwood and thistles, in their seasons rise,
And deadly nightshade spreads his poison round.
Ah! wretched he! if chance his wandering child,
By hunger prompted, pluck th' alluring fruit!
Benumning stupor creeps upon his brain;
Wild grinning laughter soon to this succeeds;
Strange madness then, and death in hideous form,
Mysterious Providence! ah, why conceal'd
In such a tempting form, should poisons lurk;
Ah, why so near the path of innocents,
Should spring their bane? But Thou alone art wise.
Thus hath the faithful Muse his lore pursu'd,
Who, trusting to the Culture of his plough,
Refus'd the dunghill's aid. Yet listen not
To doubtful precepts, with implicit faith:
Experience to experience oft oppos'd,
Leaves truth uncertain. See, what various crops,
In quick succession, crown the garden'd fields
On Thame's prolific bank. On Culture's hand
Alone, do these Horticulists rely?
Or do they owe to London's rich manure
Those products which its crowded markets fill?
Both lend their aid: and both with art improv'd,
Have spread the glory of their garden's wide,
A theme of wonder to the distant swain.
Hence the piazza'd square, where erst, embower'd
In solemn sloth, good Martin's lazy monks
Dron'd out their useless lives in pamper'd ease;
Now boasts, from Industry's rough hand supply'd,
Each various esculent the teeming earth
In every changing season can produce.
Who, trusting to the Culture of his plough,
Refus'd the dunghill's aid. Yet listen not
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Experience to experience oft oppos'd,
Leaves truth uncertain. See, what various crops,
In quick succession, crown the garden'd fields
On Thame's prolific bank. On Culture's hand
Alone, do these Horticulists rely?
Or do they owe to London's rich manure
Those products which its crowded markets fill?
Both lend their aid: and both with art improv'd,
Have spread the glory of their garden's wide,
A theme of wonder to the distant swain.
Hence the piazza'd square, where erst, embower'd
In solemn sloth, good Martin's lazy monks
Dron'd out their useless lives in pamper'd ease;
Now boasts, from Industry's rough hand supply'd,
Each various esculent the teeming earth
In every changing season can produce.
Join then with Culture the prolific strength
Of such manure as best inclines to aid
Thy failing glebe. Let oily marle impart
Its unctuous moisture, or the crumbling tan
Its glowing heat. Nor from the gazing herds,
Nor bristly swine obscene, disdain to heap
Their cooling ordure. Nor the warmer dungs
Of fiery pigeons, of the stabled horse,
Or folded flock, neglect. From sprinkled foot,
From ashes strew'd around, let the damp soil
Their nit'rous salts imbibe. Scour the deep ditch
From its black sediment; and from the street
Its trampled mixtures rake. Green standing pools,
Large lakes, or meadows rank, in rotted heaps
Of unripe weeds, afford a cool manure.
From Ocean's verge, if not too far remov'd,
Its shelly sands convey a warm compost,
From land and wave commixt, with richness fraught:
This the sour glebe shall sweeten, and for years,
Thro' chilly clay, its vigorous heat shall glow.
But if nor oily marle, nor crumbling tan,
Nor dung of cattle, nor the trampled street,
Nor weed, nor Ocean's sand, can lend its aid;
Then, Farmer, raise immediate from their seeds,
The juicy stalks of largely-spreading pulse,
Beans, buck-wheat, spurry, or the climbing vetch;
These early reapt, and bury'd in the soil,
Enrich the parent womb from whence they sprung.
Or sow the bulbous turnep; this shall yield
Sweet pasture to the flocks, or lowing herds,
And well prepare thy land for future crops.
Of such manure as best inclines to aid
Thy failing glebe. Let oily marle impart
Its unctuous moisture, or the crumbling tan
Its glowing heat. Nor from the gazing herds,
Nor bristly swine obscene, disdain to heap
Their cooling ordure. Nor the warmer dungs
Of fiery pigeons, of the stabled horse,
Or folded flock, neglect. From sprinkled foot,
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Their nit'rous salts imbibe. Scour the deep ditch
From its black sediment; and from the street
Its trampled mixtures rake. Green standing pools,
Large lakes, or meadows rank, in rotted heaps
Of unripe weeds, afford a cool manure.
From Ocean's verge, if not too far remov'd,
Its shelly sands convey a warm compost,
From land and wave commixt, with richness fraught:
This the sour glebe shall sweeten, and for years,
Thro' chilly clay, its vigorous heat shall glow.
But if nor oily marle, nor crumbling tan,
Nor dung of cattle, nor the trampled street,
Nor weed, nor Ocean's sand, can lend its aid;
Then, Farmer, raise immediate from their seeds,
The juicy stalks of largely-spreading pulse,
Beans, buck-wheat, spurry, or the climbing vetch;
These early reapt, and bury'd in the soil,
Enrich the parent womb from whence they sprung.
Or sow the bulbous turnep; this shall yield
Sweet pasture to the flocks, or lowing herds,
And well prepare thy land for future crops.
Yet not alone to raise, but to secure
Thy products from invasion, and divide
For various use th' appropriated fields,
Disdain not thou to learn. For this, the sloe,
The furze, the holly, to thy hand present
Their branches, and their different merits boast.
But from the nurs'ry thou with care select
Quick hawthorn setts, well rooted, smooth and strait:
Then low as sinks thy ditch on either side,
Let rise in height the sloping bank: there plant
Thy future fence, at intervals a foot
From each to each, in beds of richest mold.
Nor ends the labour here; but to defend
Thy infant shoots from depredation deep,
At proper distance drive stiff oaken stakes;
Which interwove with boughs and flexile twigs,
Frustrate the nibbling flock, or brouzing herd.
Thus, if from weeds, that rob them of their food,
Or choak, by covering from the vital air,
The hoe's neat culture keep thy thickening shoots,
Soon shall they rise, and to thy field afford
A beauteous, strong, impenetrable fence.
The linnet, goldfinch, nightingale, and thrush,
Here, by security invited, build
Their little nests, and all thy labours chear
With melody; the hand of lovely May
Here strews her sweetest blossoms; and if mixt
With stocks of knotted crab, ingrafted fruits,
When Autumn crowns the year, shall smile around.
Thy products from invasion, and divide
For various use th' appropriated fields,
Disdain not thou to learn. For this, the sloe,
The furze, the holly, to thy hand present
Their branches, and their different merits boast.
But from the nurs'ry thou with care select
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Then low as sinks thy ditch on either side,
Let rise in height the sloping bank: there plant
Thy future fence, at intervals a foot
From each to each, in beds of richest mold.
Nor ends the labour here; but to defend
Thy infant shoots from depredation deep,
At proper distance drive stiff oaken stakes;
Which interwove with boughs and flexile twigs,
Frustrate the nibbling flock, or brouzing herd.
Thus, if from weeds, that rob them of their food,
Or choak, by covering from the vital air,
The hoe's neat culture keep thy thickening shoots,
Soon shall they rise, and to thy field afford
A beauteous, strong, impenetrable fence.
The linnet, goldfinch, nightingale, and thrush,
Here, by security invited, build
Their little nests, and all thy labours chear
With melody; the hand of lovely May
Here strews her sweetest blossoms; and if mixt
With stocks of knotted crab, ingrafted fruits,
When Autumn crowns the year, shall smile around.
But from low shrubs, if thy ambition rise
To cultivate the larger tree, attend.
To cultivate the larger tree, attend.
From seeds, or suckers, layers, or setts, arise
Their various tribes; for now exploded stands
The vulgar fable of spontaneous birth,
To plant or animal. He then, who, pleas'd,
In Fancy's eye beholds his future race
Rejoicing in the shades their grandsire gave;
Or he whose patriot views extend to raise,
In distant ages, Britain's naval power;
Must first prepare, inclining to the south,
A shelter'd nursery; well from weeds, from shrubs,
Clear'd by the previous culture of the plough,
From cattle fenc'd, and every peeling tooth.
Then from the summit of the fairest tree
His seed selected ripe, and sow'd in rills
On Nature's fruitful lap: the harrow's care
Indulgent covers from keen frosts that pierce
Or vermin who devour. The wintry months
In embrio close the future forest lies,
And waits for germination: but in spring,
When their green heads first rise above the earth,
And ask thy fostering hand; then to their roots
The light soil gently move, and strew around
Old leaves, or litter'd straw, to screen from heat
The tender infants. Leave not to vile weeds
This friendly office; whose false kindness choaks,
Or starves the nurslings they pretend to shade.
Their various tribes; for now exploded stands
The vulgar fable of spontaneous birth,
To plant or animal. He then, who, pleas'd,
In Fancy's eye beholds his future race
Rejoicing in the shades their grandsire gave;
Or he whose patriot views extend to raise,
124
Must first prepare, inclining to the south,
A shelter'd nursery; well from weeds, from shrubs,
Clear'd by the previous culture of the plough,
From cattle fenc'd, and every peeling tooth.
Then from the summit of the fairest tree
His seed selected ripe, and sow'd in rills
On Nature's fruitful lap: the harrow's care
Indulgent covers from keen frosts that pierce
Or vermin who devour. The wintry months
In embrio close the future forest lies,
And waits for germination: but in spring,
When their green heads first rise above the earth,
And ask thy fostering hand; then to their roots
The light soil gently move, and strew around
Old leaves, or litter'd straw, to screen from heat
The tender infants. Leave not to vile weeds
This friendly office; whose false kindness choaks,
Or starves the nurslings they pretend to shade.
When now four summers have beheld their youth
Attended in the nursery, then transplant,
The soil prepar'd, to where thy future grove
Is destin'd to uprear its leafy head.
Avoid the error of impatience. He
Who, eager to enjoy the cooling shade
His hands shall raise, removes at vast expence
Tall trees; with envy and regret shall see
His neighbour's infant plants soon, soon outstrip
The tardy loiterers of his dwindling copse.
Attended in the nursery, then transplant,
The soil prepar'd, to where thy future grove
Is destin'd to uprear its leafy head.
Avoid the error of impatience. He
Who, eager to enjoy the cooling shade
His hands shall raise, removes at vast expence
Tall trees; with envy and regret shall see
His neighbour's infant plants soon, soon outstrip
The tardy loiterers of his dwindling copse.
But if thy emulation's generous pride
Would boast the largest timber strait and strong!
Thick let the seedling in their native beds
Stand unremov'd; so shall each lateral branch,
Obstructed, send its nourishment to raise
The towering stem: and they whose vigorous health
Exalts above the rest their lofty heads,
Aspiring still, shall spread their powerful arms,
While the weak puny race, obscur'd below,
Sickening, die off, and leave their victors room.
Would boast the largest timber strait and strong!
Thick let the seedling in their native beds
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Obstructed, send its nourishment to raise
The towering stem: and they whose vigorous health
Exalts above the rest their lofty heads,
Aspiring still, shall spread their powerful arms,
While the weak puny race, obscur'd below,
Sickening, die off, and leave their victors room.
Nor small the praise the skilful Planter claims
From his befriended country. Various Arts
Borrow from him materials. The soft Beech,
And close-grain'd Box, employ the turner's wheel,
And with a thousand implements supply
Mechanic skill. Their beauteous veins the Yew
And Phyllerea lend, to surface o'er
The cabinet. Smooth Linden best obeys
The carver's chissel; best his curious work
Displays in all its nicest touches. Birch—
Ah, why should Birch supply the chair? since oft
Its cruel twigs compel the smarting youth
To dread the hateful seat. Tough-bending Ash
Gives to the humble swain his useful plough,
And for the peer his prouder chariot builds.
To weave our baskets the soft Osier lends
His pliant twigs: Staves that nor shrink nor swell,
The cooper's close-wrought cask to Chesnut owes.
The sweet-leav'd Walnut's undulated grain,
Polish'd with care, adds to the workman's art
Its varying beauties. The tall towering Elm,
Scoop'd into hollow tubes, in secret streams
Conveys for many a mile the limpid wave;
Or from its height when humbled to the ground,
Conveys the pride of mortal man to dust.
And last the Oak, king of Britannia's woods,
And guardian of her isle! whose sons robust,
The best supporters of incumbent weight,
Their beams and pillars to the builder give,
Of strength immense: or in the bounding deep
The loose foundations lay of floating walls,
Impregnably secure. But sunk, but fallen
From all your ancient grandeur, O ye groves!
Beneath whose lofty venerable boughs
The Druid erst his solemn rites perform'd,
And taught to distant realms his sacred lore,
Where are your beauties fled? where but to serve
Your thankless country, who unblushing sees
Her naked forests longing for your shade.
From his befriended country. Various Arts
Borrow from him materials. The soft Beech,
And close-grain'd Box, employ the turner's wheel,
And with a thousand implements supply
Mechanic skill. Their beauteous veins the Yew
And Phyllerea lend, to surface o'er
The cabinet. Smooth Linden best obeys
The carver's chissel; best his curious work
Displays in all its nicest touches. Birch—
Ah, why should Birch supply the chair? since oft
Its cruel twigs compel the smarting youth
To dread the hateful seat. Tough-bending Ash
Gives to the humble swain his useful plough,
And for the peer his prouder chariot builds.
To weave our baskets the soft Osier lends
His pliant twigs: Staves that nor shrink nor swell,
The cooper's close-wrought cask to Chesnut owes.
The sweet-leav'd Walnut's undulated grain,
Polish'd with care, adds to the workman's art
Its varying beauties. The tall towering Elm,
Scoop'd into hollow tubes, in secret streams
Conveys for many a mile the limpid wave;
Or from its height when humbled to the ground,
Conveys the pride of mortal man to dust.
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And guardian of her isle! whose sons robust,
The best supporters of incumbent weight,
Their beams and pillars to the builder give,
Of strength immense: or in the bounding deep
The loose foundations lay of floating walls,
Impregnably secure. But sunk, but fallen
From all your ancient grandeur, O ye groves!
Beneath whose lofty venerable boughs
The Druid erst his solemn rites perform'd,
And taught to distant realms his sacred lore,
Where are your beauties fled? where but to serve
Your thankless country, who unblushing sees
Her naked forests longing for your shade.
The task, the glorious task, for Thee remains,
O Prince belov'd! for Thee, more nobly born
Than for Thyself alone, the patriot work
Yet unattempted waits. O let not pass
The fair occasion to remotest time
Thy name with praise, with honour to transmit!
So shall Thy country's rising fleets, to Thee
Owe future triumphs; so her naval strength,
Supported from within, shall fix Thy claim
To Ocean's sovereignty; and to Thy ports,
In every climate of the peopled earth,
Bear Commerce; fearless, unresisted, safe.
Let then the great ambition fire Thy breast,
For this, Thy native land; Replace the lost
Inhabitants of her deserted plains.
Let Thame once more on Windsor's lofty hills
Survey young forests planted by Thy hand.
Let fair Sabrina's flood again behold
The
Spaniard's terror rise renew'd. And Trent,
From Sherwood's ample plains, with pride convey
The bulwarks of her country to the main.
O Prince belov'd! for Thee, more nobly born
Than for Thyself alone, the patriot work
Yet unattempted waits. O let not pass
The fair occasion to remotest time
Thy name with praise, with honour to transmit!
So shall Thy country's rising fleets, to Thee
Owe future triumphs; so her naval strength,
Supported from within, shall fix Thy claim
To Ocean's sovereignty; and to Thy ports,
In every climate of the peopled earth,
Bear Commerce; fearless, unresisted, safe.
Let then the great ambition fire Thy breast,
For this, Thy native land; Replace the lost
Inhabitants of her deserted plains.
Let Thame once more on Windsor's lofty hills
Survey young forests planted by Thy hand.
Let fair Sabrina's flood again behold
127
From Sherwood's ample plains, with pride convey
The bulwarks of her country to the main.
O native Sherwood! happy were thy bard,
Might these his rural notes, to future time
Boast of tall groves, that, nodding o'er thy plain,
Rose to their tuneful melody. But, ah!
Beneath the feeble efforts of a Muse
Untutor'd by the lore of Greece or Rome;
A stranger to the fair Castalian springs,
Whence happier poets inspiration draw,
And the sweet magic of perswasive song,
The weak presumption, the fond hope expires.
Yet sure some sacred impulse stirs my breast!
I feel, I feel, an heavenly guest within!
And all-obedient to the ruling God,
The pleasing task which he inspires, pursue.
Might these his rural notes, to future time
Boast of tall groves, that, nodding o'er thy plain,
Rose to their tuneful melody. But, ah!
Beneath the feeble efforts of a Muse
Untutor'd by the lore of Greece or Rome;
A stranger to the fair Castalian springs,
Whence happier poets inspiration draw,
And the sweet magic of perswasive song,
The weak presumption, the fond hope expires.
Yet sure some sacred impulse stirs my breast!
I feel, I feel, an heavenly guest within!
And all-obedient to the ruling God,
The pleasing task which he inspires, pursue.
And hence, disdaining low and trivial things;
Why should I tell of him whose obvious art,
To drain the low damp meadow, sloping sinks
A hollow trench, which arch'd at half its depth,
Cover'd with filtering brush-wood, furze or broom,
And surfac'd o'er with earth; in secret streams
Draws its collected moisture from the glebe?
Or why of him, who o'er his sandy fields,
Too dry to bear the sun's meridian beam,
Calls from the neighbouring hills obsequious springs,
Which led in winding currents thro' the mead,
Cool the hot soil, refresh the thirsty plain,
While wither'd plants reviving smile around?
But sing, O Muse! the swain, the happy swain,
Whom Taste and Nature leading o'er his fields,
Conduct to every rural beauty. See!
Before his footsteps winds the waving walk,
Here gently rising, there descending slow
Thro' the tall grove, or near the water's brink,
Where flowers besprinkled paint the shelving bank,
And weeping willows bend, to kiss the stream.
Now wandering o'er the lawn he roves, and now
Beneath the hawthorn's secret shade reclines:
Where purple violets hang their bashful heads,
Where yellow cowslips, and the blushing pink,
Their mingled sweets, and lovely hues combine.
Why should I tell of him whose obvious art,
To drain the low damp meadow, sloping sinks
A hollow trench, which arch'd at half its depth,
Cover'd with filtering brush-wood, furze or broom,
And surfac'd o'er with earth; in secret streams
Draws its collected moisture from the glebe?
Or why of him, who o'er his sandy fields,
Too dry to bear the sun's meridian beam,
Calls from the neighbouring hills obsequious springs,
128
Cool the hot soil, refresh the thirsty plain,
While wither'd plants reviving smile around?
But sing, O Muse! the swain, the happy swain,
Whom Taste and Nature leading o'er his fields,
Conduct to every rural beauty. See!
Before his footsteps winds the waving walk,
Here gently rising, there descending slow
Thro' the tall grove, or near the water's brink,
Where flowers besprinkled paint the shelving bank,
And weeping willows bend, to kiss the stream.
Now wandering o'er the lawn he roves, and now
Beneath the hawthorn's secret shade reclines:
Where purple violets hang their bashful heads,
Where yellow cowslips, and the blushing pink,
Their mingled sweets, and lovely hues combine.
Here, shelter'd from the north, his ripening fruits
Display their sweet temptations from the wall,
Or from the gay espalier: while below,
His various esculents, from glowing beds,
Give the fair promise of delicious feasts.
Display their sweet temptations from the wall,
Or from the gay espalier: while below,
His various esculents, from glowing beds,
Give the fair promise of delicious feasts.
There from his forming hand new scenes arise,
The fair creation of his Fancy's eye.
Lo! bosom'd in the solemn shady grove,
Whose reverend branches wave on yonder hill,
He views the moss-grown temple's ruin'd tower,
Cover'd with creeping ivy's cluster'd leaves;
The mansion seeming of some rural God,
Whom Nature's choristers, in untaught hymns
Of wild yet sweetest harmony, adore.
From the bold brow of that aspiring steep,
Where hang the nibbling flocks, and view below
Their downward shadows in the glassy wave,
What pleasing landscapes spread before his eye!
Of scatter'd villages, and winding streams,
And meadows green, and woods, and distant spires,
Seeming, above the blue horizon's bound,
To prop the canopy of heaven. Now lost
Amidst a glooming wilderness of shrubs,
The golden Orange, Arbute ever green,
The early-blooming Almond, feathery Pine,
Fair Opulus, to Spring, to Autumn dear,
And the sweet shades of varying verdure, caught
From soft Acacia's gently-waving branch,
Heedless he wanders: while the grateful scents
Of Sweet-briar, Roses, Honeysuckles wild,
Regale the smell; and to th' enchanted eye
Mezereon's purple, Laurustinus' white,
And pale Laburnum's pendent flowers display
Their different beauties. O'er the smooth-shorn grass
His lingering footsteps leisurely proceed,
In meditation deep:—When, hark! the sound
Of distant water steals upon his ear;
And sudden opens to his pausing eye
The rapid rough cascade, from the rude rock
Down dashing in a stream of lucid foam:
Then glides away, meandring o'er the lawn,
A liquid surface; shining seen afar,
At intervals, beneath the shadowy trees;
Till lost and bury'd in the distant grove.
Wrapt into sacred musing, he reclines
Beneath the covert of embowering shades;
And, painting to his mind the bustling scenes
Of Pride and bold Ambition, pities Kings.
The fair creation of his Fancy's eye.
Lo! bosom'd in the solemn shady grove,
Whose reverend branches wave on yonder hill,
He views the moss-grown temple's ruin'd tower,
Cover'd with creeping ivy's cluster'd leaves;
The mansion seeming of some rural God,
Whom Nature's choristers, in untaught hymns
Of wild yet sweetest harmony, adore.
From the bold brow of that aspiring steep,
129
Their downward shadows in the glassy wave,
What pleasing landscapes spread before his eye!
Of scatter'd villages, and winding streams,
And meadows green, and woods, and distant spires,
Seeming, above the blue horizon's bound,
To prop the canopy of heaven. Now lost
Amidst a glooming wilderness of shrubs,
The golden Orange, Arbute ever green,
The early-blooming Almond, feathery Pine,
Fair Opulus, to Spring, to Autumn dear,
And the sweet shades of varying verdure, caught
From soft Acacia's gently-waving branch,
Heedless he wanders: while the grateful scents
Of Sweet-briar, Roses, Honeysuckles wild,
Regale the smell; and to th' enchanted eye
Mezereon's purple, Laurustinus' white,
And pale Laburnum's pendent flowers display
Their different beauties. O'er the smooth-shorn grass
His lingering footsteps leisurely proceed,
In meditation deep:—When, hark! the sound
Of distant water steals upon his ear;
And sudden opens to his pausing eye
The rapid rough cascade, from the rude rock
Down dashing in a stream of lucid foam:
Then glides away, meandring o'er the lawn,
A liquid surface; shining seen afar,
At intervals, beneath the shadowy trees;
Till lost and bury'd in the distant grove.
Wrapt into sacred musing, he reclines
Beneath the covert of embowering shades;
130
Of Pride and bold Ambition, pities Kings.
Genius of Gardens! Nature's fairest Child!
Thou who, inspir'd by the Directing Mind
Of Heaven, did'st plan the scenes of paradise!
Thou at whose bidding rose th' Hesperian bowers
Of ancient fame, the fair Aonian mount,
Castalian springs, and all th' enchanting groves
Of Tempe's vale: O where hast thou been hid?
For ages where have stray'd thy steps unknown?
Welcome at length, thrice welcome to the shore
Of Britain's beauteous Isle; where verdant plains,
Where hills and dales, and woods and waters join
To aid thy pencil, favour thy designs,
And give thy varying landscapes every charm.
Drive then Batavia's monsters from our shades;
Nor let unhallow'd shears profane the form,
Which Heaven's own hand, with symmetry divine,
Hath given to all the vegetable tribes.
Banish the regular deformity
Of plans by line and compass, rules abhor'd
In Nature's free plantations; and restore
Its pleasing wildness to the garden walk;
The calm serene recess of thoughtful man,
In Meditation's silent sacred hour.
Thou who, inspir'd by the Directing Mind
Of Heaven, did'st plan the scenes of paradise!
Thou at whose bidding rose th' Hesperian bowers
Of ancient fame, the fair Aonian mount,
Castalian springs, and all th' enchanting groves
Of Tempe's vale: O where hast thou been hid?
For ages where have stray'd thy steps unknown?
Welcome at length, thrice welcome to the shore
Of Britain's beauteous Isle; where verdant plains,
Where hills and dales, and woods and waters join
To aid thy pencil, favour thy designs,
And give thy varying landscapes every charm.
Drive then Batavia's monsters from our shades;
Nor let unhallow'd shears profane the form,
Which Heaven's own hand, with symmetry divine,
Hath given to all the vegetable tribes.
Banish the regular deformity
Of plans by line and compass, rules abhor'd
In Nature's free plantations; and restore
Its pleasing wildness to the garden walk;
The calm serene recess of thoughtful man,
In Meditation's silent sacred hour.
And lo! the progress of thy steps appears
In fair improvements scatter'd round the land.
Earliest in Chiswick's beauteous model seen:
There thy first favourite, in the happy shade
To Nature introduc'd, the Goddess woo'd,
And in sweet rapture there enjoy'd her charms.
In Richmond's venerable woods and wilds,
The calm retreat, where weary'd Majesty,
Unbending from his cares for Britain's Peace,
Steals a few moments to indulge his own.
On Oatland's brow, where Grandeur sits enthron'd,
Smiling on Beauty. In the lovely vale
Of Esher, where the mole glides lingering, loth
To leave such scenes of sweet simplicity.
In Woburn's ornamented fields, where gay
Variety, where mingled lights and shades,
Where lawns and groves, and opening prospects break,
With sweet surprize, upon the wandering eye.
On Hagley's hills, irregular and wild,
Where thro' romantic scenes of hanging woods,
And vallies green, and rocks, and hollow dales,
While Echo talks, and Nymphs and Dryads play,
Thou rov'st enamour'd; leading by the hand
Its Master, who, inspir'd with all thy Art,
Adds beauties to what Nature plan'd so fair.
In fair improvements scatter'd round the land.
Earliest in Chiswick's beauteous model seen:
There thy first favourite, in the happy shade
131
And in sweet rapture there enjoy'd her charms.
In Richmond's venerable woods and wilds,
The calm retreat, where weary'd Majesty,
Unbending from his cares for Britain's Peace,
Steals a few moments to indulge his own.
On Oatland's brow, where Grandeur sits enthron'd,
Smiling on Beauty. In the lovely vale
Of Esher, where the mole glides lingering, loth
To leave such scenes of sweet simplicity.
In Woburn's ornamented fields, where gay
Variety, where mingled lights and shades,
Where lawns and groves, and opening prospects break,
With sweet surprize, upon the wandering eye.
On Hagley's hills, irregular and wild,
Where thro' romantic scenes of hanging woods,
And vallies green, and rocks, and hollow dales,
While Echo talks, and Nymphs and Dryads play,
Thou rov'st enamour'd; leading by the hand
Its Master, who, inspir'd with all thy Art,
Adds beauties to what Nature plan'd so fair.
Hail sweet Retirement! Wisdom's peaceful seat!
Where lifted from the crowd, and calmly plac'd
Beyond the deafening roar of human strife,
Th' Athenian sage his happy followers taught,
That Pleasure sprang from Virtue. Gracious Heaven!
How worthy thy divine beneficence,
This fair establish'd truth! ye blissful bowers,
Ye vocal groves whose echoes caught his lore,
O might I hear, thro' Time's long tract convey'd,
The moral lessons taught beneath your shades!
And lo, transported to the sacred scenes,
Such the divine enchantment of the Muse,
I see the sage; I hear, I hear his voice.
“The end of life is Happiness; the means
“That end to gain, fair Virtue gives alone.
“From the vain phantoms of delusive Fear,
“Or strong Desire's intemp'rance, spring the woes
“Which human life embitter. Oh, my sons,
“From Error's darkening clouds, from groundless Fear
“Enfeebling all her powers, with early skill,
“Clear the bewilder'd mind. Let Fortitude
“Establish in your breasts her stedfast throne;
“So shall the stings of Evil fix no wound:
“Nor dread of poverty, nor pain, nor grief,
“Nor life's disasters, nor the fear of death,
“Shake the just purpose of your steady souls.
“The golden curb of Temp'rance next prepare,
“To rein th' impetuous sallies of Desire.
“He who the kindling sparks of Anger checks,
“Shall ne'er with fruitless tears in vain lament
“Its flame's destructive rage. Who from the vale
“Ambition's dangerous pinacle surveys;
“Safe from the blast which shakes the towering pile,
“Enjoys secure repose, nor dreads the storm
“When public clamours rise. Who cautious turns
“From lewd Temptation smiling in the eye
“Of Wantonness, hath burst the golden bands
“Of future Anguish; hath redeem'd his frame
“From early feebleness, and dire disease.
“Who lets the griping hand of Av'rice pinch
“To narrow selfishness the social heart;
“Excludes fair Friendship, Charity, and Love,
“From their divine exertions in his breast.
“And see, my friends, this Garden's little bound,
“So small the wants of Nature, well supplies
“Our board with plenty; roots, or wholesome pulse,
“Or herbs, or flavour'd fruits: and from the stream
“The hand of Moderation fills a cup,
“The thirst delicious. Hence nor fevers rise,
“Nor surfeits, nor the boiling blood, inflam'd
“With-turbid violence, the veins distends.
“Hear then, and weigh the moment of my words.
“Who thus the sensual appetites restrain,
“Enjoy the heavenly Venus of these shades,
“Celestial Pleasure; tranquil and secure,
“From Pain, Disease, and anxious Troubles free.
Where lifted from the crowd, and calmly plac'd
Beyond the deafening roar of human strife,
Th' Athenian sage his happy followers taught,
That Pleasure sprang from Virtue. Gracious Heaven!
How worthy thy divine beneficence,
This fair establish'd truth! ye blissful bowers,
132
O might I hear, thro' Time's long tract convey'd,
The moral lessons taught beneath your shades!
And lo, transported to the sacred scenes,
Such the divine enchantment of the Muse,
I see the sage; I hear, I hear his voice.
“The end of life is Happiness; the means
“That end to gain, fair Virtue gives alone.
“From the vain phantoms of delusive Fear,
“Or strong Desire's intemp'rance, spring the woes
“Which human life embitter. Oh, my sons,
“From Error's darkening clouds, from groundless Fear
“Enfeebling all her powers, with early skill,
“Clear the bewilder'd mind. Let Fortitude
“Establish in your breasts her stedfast throne;
“So shall the stings of Evil fix no wound:
“Nor dread of poverty, nor pain, nor grief,
“Nor life's disasters, nor the fear of death,
“Shake the just purpose of your steady souls.
“The golden curb of Temp'rance next prepare,
“To rein th' impetuous sallies of Desire.
“He who the kindling sparks of Anger checks,
“Shall ne'er with fruitless tears in vain lament
“Its flame's destructive rage. Who from the vale
“Ambition's dangerous pinacle surveys;
“Safe from the blast which shakes the towering pile,
“Enjoys secure repose, nor dreads the storm
“When public clamours rise. Who cautious turns
“From lewd Temptation smiling in the eye
“Of Wantonness, hath burst the golden bands
“Of future Anguish; hath redeem'd his frame
“From early feebleness, and dire disease.
“Who lets the griping hand of Av'rice pinch
133
“Excludes fair Friendship, Charity, and Love,
“From their divine exertions in his breast.
“And see, my friends, this Garden's little bound,
“So small the wants of Nature, well supplies
“Our board with plenty; roots, or wholesome pulse,
“Or herbs, or flavour'd fruits: and from the stream
“The hand of Moderation fills a cup,
“The thirst delicious. Hence nor fevers rise,
“Nor surfeits, nor the boiling blood, inflam'd
“With-turbid violence, the veins distends.
“Hear then, and weigh the moment of my words.
“Who thus the sensual appetites restrain,
“Enjoy the heavenly Venus of these shades,
“Celestial Pleasure; tranquil and secure,
“From Pain, Disease, and anxious Troubles free.
The late Mr. Tull, of Shalborne in Berkshire, in his Horse-hoeing Husbandry; of an Essay on the Principles of Vegetation and Tillage.
Covent Garden, which is now a market for greens, roots, &c. was formerly a garden belonging to the monks of St. Martin's convent.
The bark of oak, after it hath been used by the tanner. It is frequently made use of for hot-beds, particularly for raising pine-apples; and is called by the gardeners, Tan.
If weeds are suffer'd to stand till they are ripe before they are made this use of, their seeds will fill the ground, and it will be difficult to get them out again.
The officers on board the Spanish fleet in 1588, called the Invincible Armada, had it in their orders, if they could not subdue the island, at least to destroy the forest of Dean, which is in the neighbourhood of the river Severn.
The taste for strait lines, regular platforms, and clipt trees, was imported from Holland at the Revolution.
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