Poetical recreations :: :: University of Virginia Library

Well might the Antients deem a Grove to be
The Sacred Mansion of some Deity;
For it our Souls insensibly do's move,
At once to humble Piety and Love,
The choicest Blessings Heav'n to us has giv'n,
And the best Off'ring we can make to Heav'n;
These only poor Mortality make bless'd,
And to Inquietude exhibit rest;
By these our rationality is shown,
The cognisance by which from Brutes we'r known.
For who themselves of Piety devest,
Are surely but a Moral kind of Beasts;
But those whom gentle Laws of Love can't bind,
Are Salvages of the most sordid kind.
But none like these do in our Shades obtrude,
Though scornfully some needs will call them rude
Yet Nature's culture is so well exprest,
That Art her self would wish to be so drest:

For here the Sun conspires with ev'ry Tree,
To deck the Earth with Landskip-Tapistry.
Then through some space his brightest Beams appear,
VVhich do's erect a Golden Pillar there.
Here a close Canopy of Bows is made,
There a soft grassie Cloth of State is spread,
VVith Gems and gayest Flow'rs embroider'd o're,
Fresh as those Beauties honest Swains adore.
Here Plants for health, and for delight are met,
The Cephalick Cowslip, Cordial Violet.
Under the Diuretick Woodbine grows
The Splenetick Columbine, Scorbutick Rose;
The best of which, some gentle Nymph doth take,
For faithfull Corydon a Crown to make;
VVhilst on her Lap the happy Youth's head lyes,
Gazing upon the Aspects of her Eyes,
The most unerring, best Astronomy,
VVhereby to Calculate his destiny;
VVhilst o're their heads a pair of Turtles Coo,
VVhich with less zeal and constancy do wooe;
And Birds around, through their extended throats,
In careless Consort chant their pleasing Notes;
Than which, no sweeter Musick strikes the Ear,
Unless when Lover's sighs each other hear;

Which are more soft than Austral Breeses bring,
Although they say they're harbingers of th' Spring.

Ah silly Town! wil't thou near learn to know,
What happiness in Solitude do's grow?
But as a hardn'd Sinner for's defence,
Pleads the insipidness of innocence;
Or some whom Vertue due respect would grant,
But that they feign they're of her ignorant:
Yet Blindness is not laudable to plead,
When we're by wilfull Ignorance mis-led.
Should some, who think't a happiness to get
Crouds of acquaintance, to admire their Wit;
Resolve their Sins and Follies to discard,
Their Cronies quickly would them disregard.

'Tis hard we must (the World's so wicked grown)
Be complaisant in Sin, or live alone:
For those who now with Vertue are endu'd,
Do live alone, though in a multitude.
Retire then all, whom Fortune don't oblige,
To suffer the distresses of a Siege.
Where strong temptation Vertue do's attacque,
'Tis not ignoble an escape to make:
But where no Conquest can be hop'd by sight,
'Tis honourable, sure, to 'scape by flight.

Fly to some calm retreat, where you may spend
Your life in quietude with some kind Friend;
In some small Village, and adjacent Grove,
At once your Friendship and your Wit improve;
Free from those vile, opprobrious, foolish Names,
Of Whig or Tory, and from sordid aims
Of Wealth, and all its train of Luxuries;
From Wit sophisticate, with fooleries.
From Beds of Lust, and Meals o're-charg'd with Wine,
Here temp'rately thou may'st on one Dish dine:
In wholsome Exercise thou may'st delight
Thy self, and make thy rest more sweet at night.
And if thy mind to Contemplation leads,
Who God and Nature's Books has, surely needs
No other Object to imploy his thought,
Since in each leaf such Mysteries are wrought;
That whoso studies most, shall never know
Why the straight Elm's so tall, the Moss so low.
Oh now, I could inlarge upon this Theam,
But that I'm unawares come to the stream,
Which at the bottom of this Grove do's glide;
And here I'll rest me by its flow'ry side.