Vertumnus An Epistle to Mr. Jacob Bobart, Botany Professor to the University of Oxford, and Keeper of the Physick-Garden. By the author of The Apparition [i.e. Abel Evans] |
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VERTUMNUS.
AN EPISTLE TO Mr. Jacob Bobart.
Thank Heav'n! at Last our Wars are o'er;We're very Wise, and very Poor:
All our Campaigns at once are done;
We've Ended, where we just Begun,
In Perfect PEACE: Long may it last!
And Pay for all the Taxes past:
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And dry up all the Ladies Tears,
For Husbands, Sons, and Lovers lost;
In Duels some, in Battles most.
Rise, Rise, ye Britons, Thankful Rise!
Extol your EMPRESS to the Skies;
Crown Her with Laurels ever Green,
With Olives fair inwove between:
Her Courage drew the Conquering Sword;
Her Wisdom Banish'd PEACE restor'd.
Long, Wondrous ANNA! may'st Thou live,
T'Enjoy those Blessings which You Give:
To Guard Thy Friends, Confound Thy Foes,
And Fix the Church, and State's Repose:
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Be Crown'd with Endless PEACE in Heav'n.
Farewel ye Camps, and Sieges dire!
With all your Cannons, Smoak and Fire:
Ye Victories and Trophies vain!
A certain Loss, uncertain Gain:
Ye Squadrons and Battalions brave!
Who first your Foes, then Friends enslave:
Ye Gallant Leaders! who delight,
For Glory less, than Gold, to Fight:
Ye Publick Patriots! plac'd on High,
To Sell those Votes, which first ye Buy:
And Bards, whose mercenary Lays,
Such Heroes, and such Statesmen Praise.
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Such Authors, and their impious Themes:
And with a more becoming Grace,
Her Song impartial does address,
BOBART to Thee; the Muses Friend:
BOBART! the Promis'd Song attend.
And where no Difference appears
Betwixt the Subject, and the Verse;
But He who Praises, and is Prais'd,
On Equal Eminence are rais'd:
No Flatteries thence are to be fear'd,
Nor Hopes encourag'd of Reward.
Such is our Case:—I Honour Thee
For Something, Thou for Something Me;
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Of Courtiers, Fortune, and of Fame:
Alike, (in Pity to Mankind)
To PEACE, to Heavenly PEACE, enclin'd.
To PEACE, my Friend! that Thou and I,
No Colours fluttering in the Sky;
With frightful Faces, glittering Arms,
Bellona's military Charms;
May undisturb'd, and studious rove,
O'er every Lawn, thro' every Grove.
No Colours fluttering in the Sky;
With frightful Faces, glittering Arms,
Bellona's military Charms;
May undisturb'd, and studious rove,
O'er every Lawn, thro' every Grove.
See various Nature, in each Field
Her Flow'rs, and Fruits luxuriant yield;
While the Bright God of Day presides,
Aloft, and all the Seasons guides;
Jocund to run his annual Course,
With never-tiring Speed and Force.
Her Flow'rs, and Fruits luxuriant yield;
While the Bright God of Day presides,
Aloft, and all the Seasons guides;
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With never-tiring Speed and Force.
With Golden Hair, the God of Day,
Wings from the East, his fervid Way:
The Stars, applauding as he flies,
To see him stretch, along the Skies:
To see him roll his fiery Race,
Athwart the vast Æthereal Space;
Unbind the Frosts, dissolve the Snows,
As round the Radiant Belt he goes.
Wings from the East, his fervid Way:
The Stars, applauding as he flies,
To see him stretch, along the Skies:
To see him roll his fiery Race,
Athwart the vast Æthereal Space;
Unbind the Frosts, dissolve the Snows,
As round the Radiant Belt he goes.
Mild Zephyrus, the Graces leads,
To Revel o're the fragrant Meads;
The Mountains shout, the Forests ring,
While Flora decks the Purple Spring:
The Hours (attendant all the while)
On Zephyrus, and Flora smile:
The Vallies laugh, the Rivers play,
In Honour of the God of Day.
The Birds, that fan the liquid Air,
To Revel o're the fragrant Meads;
The Mountains shout, the Forests ring,
While Flora decks the Purple Spring:
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On Zephyrus, and Flora smile:
The Vallies laugh, the Rivers play,
In Honour of the God of Day.
To Tune their little Throats prepare;
The Joyous Birds of every Shade,
For Loyt'ring, Love, and Musick made:
Their Voices raise on every Spray,
To Welcome in the God of Day.
The Vegetable Earth beneath,
Bids all her Plants his Praises breathe:
Clouds of fresh Fragrance upwards rise,
To cheer his Progress thro' the Skies;
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To Celebrate his Heat, and Light.
That Light and Heat, which on our World,
From his gay Chariot Wheels is hurl'd;
And ev'ry Morn does Rosy rise,
To glad our dampy, darksom Skies:
Which once deserted by his Light,
Wou'd languish in Eternal Night.
But GARD'NING were of all a Toil,
That on our Hopes the least wou'd Smile;
Shou'd the Kind God of Day forbear
T'exhale the Rains, foment the Air:
Or, in an angry Mood, decline,
With his prolifick Beams to shine.
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Nor Fruits, nor Flow'rs cou'dst hope to raise;
(Howe'er thou may'st in Order place,
Of Both, the Latter, Earlier Race;
In Glasses, or in Sheds confin'd,
To shield them from the Wintry Wind;
Or, in the Spring, with skilful Care,
Place 'em his Influence best to share;)
Did not the SUN, their Genial Sire,
The Vegetative Soul inspire:
Instruct the senseless aukward Root,
And teach the Fibres how to shoot:
Command the taper Stalk to rear
His flow'ring Head, to grace the Year;
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And paint, with choicest Dyes, the Ground.
THOU, next to Him, art truly Great;
On Earth his Mighty Delegate:
The Vegetable World to guide,
And o'er all BOTANY preside:
To see, that every dewy Morn,
Successive Plants the Earth adorn:
That Flow'rs, thro' every Month be found,
Constant to keep their gaudy Round:
That Flow'rs, in spite of Frost and Snow,
Thro'out our Year, perpetual Blow:
That Trees, in spite of Winds are seen,
Array'd in Everlasting Green.
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Dost THOU that vast Employment fill.
Hail, Horticulture's Sapient KING!
Receive the Homage that we bring:
While at thy Feet, with Reverence low,
All Botanists and Florists Bow;
Their Knowledge, Practice, all resign:
Short, infinitely Short of Thine.
For THOU, not satisfy'd to know,
The Plants, that in Three Nations Blow;
(Their Names, their Seasons, native Place;
Their Culture, Qualities and Race)
Or Europe's more extended Plains;
Sylvanus, Flora's wide Domains.
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From Seeds, from Layers, Grafts, or Roots;
At both the Indies, both the Poles,
Whate'er the Sea, or Ocean rolls;
Of the Botanick, Herbal Kind,
Lies open to Thy searching Mind.
Noblest Ambition of thy Soul!
Which Limits, but in vain Controul:
Let others, meanly satisfy'd
With Partial Knowledge, sooth their Pride:
While Thou, with Thy prodigious Store,
But shew'st thy Modesty the more.
Thou Venerable Patriarch Wise,
Instruct us in thy Mysteries:
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No Knowledge have to Thee deny'd:
The Rural Gods of Hills, or Plains;
Where Faunus, or Feronia Reigns.
Then tell us, as Thou best dost know,
Where perfect Happiness does grow.
Where perfect Happiness does grow.
What Herbs, our Bodies will sustain
Secure from Sickness, and from Pain:
What Plants, protect us from the Rage
Of blighting Time, and blasting Age;
Which Shrubs, of all the flow'ry Field,
Most Aromatick Odours yield.
Secure from Sickness, and from Pain:
What Plants, protect us from the Rage
Of blighting Time, and blasting Age;
Which Shrubs, of all the flow'ry Field,
Most Aromatick Odours yield.
Shew us the Trees, by Nature spread,
To form the Coolest Noon-tide Shade;
When our first Ancestors were seen,
Out-stretch'd upon the Grassy Green:
Nor any Food, or Covering sought,
But what from Trees and Woods they got.
To form the Coolest Noon-tide Shade;
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Out-stretch'd upon the Grassy Green:
Nor any Food, or Covering sought,
But what from Trees and Woods they got.
Who after various Ages spent
In Ease, Abundance, and Content,
Knew not what Wars, or Sickness meant;
But Cheerful, when the Fates requir'd,
Quick to th'Elysian Fields retir'd.
Recount the Precepts they observ'd;
In Ease, Abundance, and Content,
Knew not what Wars, or Sickness meant;
But Cheerful, when the Fates requir'd,
Quick to th'Elysian Fields retir'd.
How from their Rules, they never swerv'd:
Such, as Alcinous of Old,
To his Belov'd Phæaceans told;
Or those Apollo first did teach
His Son, the Epidaurian Leach.
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Long e'er the Romans us'd to Dine,
Beneath their Planes manur'd with Wine:
On Tyrian Couches, Thoughtless lay,
And Drank, and Laugh'd, and Kiss'd away
Each sultry, circling, Summer's Day:
On polish'd Ivory Beds reclin'd;
Flung Care, and Sorrow to the Wind:
And scorning Nature's Temperate Rules,
Like Madmen Liv'd, and Dy'd like Fools:
Beneath their Planes manur'd with Wine:
On Tyrian Couches, Thoughtless lay,
And Drank, and Laugh'd, and Kiss'd away
Each sultry, circling, Summer's Day:
On polish'd Ivory Beds reclin'd;
Flung Care, and Sorrow to the Wind:
And scorning Nature's Temperate Rules,
Like Madmen Liv'd, and Dy'd like Fools:
Teach us, Thou Learn'd, Judicious Sage!
The Manners of a Wiser Age.
The Manners of a Wiser Age.
To Thee, was giv'n by Jove to Keep
Those Grotto's, where the Muses Sleep:
To Plant their Forests, where they Sing,
Fast by the Cool Castalian Spring:
With Myrtles their Pavilions raise;
Soft, intermix'd with Delian Bays:
And when they wake, at Earliest Day;
To strow, with sweetest Flow'rs, their Way.
Those Grotto's, where the Muses Sleep:
To Plant their Forests, where they Sing,
Fast by the Cool Castalian Spring:
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Soft, intermix'd with Delian Bays:
And when they wake, at Earliest Day;
To strow, with sweetest Flow'rs, their Way.
Transcendent Honour! here Below,
The Muses, and their Haunts to know!
ANNA! Look down on Isis Tow'rs;
The Muses, and their Haunts to know!
Be Gracious to the Muses Bow'rs:
And now Thy Toils of War are done;
ANNA! Protect Apollo's Throne:
'Twas He, the Dart unerring threw;
Python, the Snaky Monster slew.
The Muses Bow'rs, by all admir'd,
But those Fanatick Rage has fir'd:
Or Atheist Fools, who Freedom boast;
Themselves to Slav'ry fetter'd most.
Stern Mars may Thunder, Momus Rail;
But Wisdom's Goddess will prevail.
But those Fanatick Rage has fir'd:
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Themselves to Slav'ry fetter'd most.
Stern Mars may Thunder, Momus Rail;
But Wisdom's Goddess will prevail.
On Isis Banks, Retirement sweet!
Tritonian Pallas holds her Seat.
Tritonian Pallas holds her Seat.
Minerva's Gardens are Thy Care;
BOBART! the Virgin Pow'r revere:
Thy Hoary Head with Vervain bound,
The Mystick Grove Thrice compass round;
The Waters of Lustration pour,
And Thrice the Allies, Walks explore.
BOBART! the Virgin Pow'r revere:
Thy Hoary Head with Vervain bound,
The Mystick Grove Thrice compass round;
The Waters of Lustration pour,
And Thrice the Allies, Walks explore.
Lest some Presumptuous Wretch intrude,
With Impious Steel to wound the Wood:
Or, with rash Arm, Prophanely dare
To shake the Trees, the Leaves to bare,
And violate their Sacred Hair:
Or by worse Sacrilege betray'd,
The Blossoms, Fruits, or Flow'rs invade.
With Impious Steel to wound the Wood:
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To shake the Trees, the Leaves to bare,
And violate their Sacred Hair:
Or by worse Sacrilege betray'd,
The Blossoms, Fruits, or Flow'rs invade.
Ye Strangers! Guard your heedless Feet,
Lest from the Herbs, their Dews ye beat;
Cosmetick Dews, (by Virgins Fair,
Exhal'd in May, with Early care;)
Will to their Eyes fresh Lustre give,
And make their Charms for ever live.
Lest from the Herbs, their Dews ye beat;
Cosmetick Dews, (by Virgins Fair,
Exhal'd in May, with Early care;)
Will to their Eyes fresh Lustre give,
And make their Charms for ever live.
Minerva's Gardens are Thy Care;
JACOB, the Goddess Maid revere.
JACOB, the Goddess Maid revere.
All Plants which Europe's Fields contain;
For Health, for Pleasure, or for Pain:
(From the tall Cedar, that does rise
With Conic Pride, and mates the Skies;
Down to the humblest Shrub that crawls
On Earth, or just ascends our Walls,)
Her Squares of Horticulture yield:
By DANBY Planted, BOBART Till'd.
For Health, for Pleasure, or for Pain:
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With Conic Pride, and mates the Skies;
Down to the humblest Shrub that crawls
On Earth, or just ascends our Walls,)
Her Squares of Horticulture yield:
By DANBY Planted, BOBART Till'd.
Delightful scientifick Shade!
For Knowledge, as for Pleasure made.
'Twas Gen'rous DANBY first enclos'd
For Knowledge, as for Pleasure made.
The Waste, and in Parterres dispos'd;
Transform'd the Fashion of the Ground,
And Fenc'd it with a Rocky Mound;
The Figure disproportion'd chang'd,
Trees, Shrubs, and Plants in Order rang'd;
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Only the spacious Earth has more:
At His Command the Plat was chose,
And Eden from the Chaos rose:
Confusion in a Moment fled,
And Roses blush'd where Thistles bred.
The Portico next, High he rear'd,
By Builders now so much rever'd;
(Which like some Rustick Beauty shows,
Who all her Charms to Nature owes;
Yet fires the Heart, and warms the Head,
No less than those in Cities bred;
Our Wonder equally does raise
With them, as well deserves our Praise.)
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The Work of Jones's Master-Hand:
Jones, the Vitruvius of our Land;
He drew the Plan, the Fabrick fix'd,
With equal Strength, and Beauty mix'd:
With perfect Symmetry design'd;
Consummate, like the Donor's Mind.
Jones, the Vitruvius of our Land;
He drew the Plan, the Fabrick fix'd,
With equal Strength, and Beauty mix'd:
With perfect Symmetry design'd;
Consummate, like the Donor's Mind.
Illustrious DANBY! Splendid Peer!
Look downwards from thy Radiant Sphere,
The Muses Thanks propitious hear.
When Albion will thy Nobles now,
Look downwards from thy Radiant Sphere,
The Muses Thanks propitious hear.
Such Bounty to Minerva show?
With true Patrician Renown,
In Honour of the Church and Crown,
Grace, with such Gifts, the Muses Town?
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There, where Old Cherwell gently leads
His humid Train, along the Meads;
And courts fair Isis, but in vain,
Who laughs at all his am'rous Pain;
Away the scornful Naid turns,
For Younger Tamus, Isis burns.
His humid Train, along the Meads;
And courts fair Isis, but in vain,
Who laughs at all his am'rous Pain;
Away the scornful Naid turns,
For Younger Tamus, Isis burns.
Close to those Tow'rs, so much renown'd
For Slav'ry lost, and Freedom found:
Where thy Brave Sons! in hapless Days,
Wainfleet: To thy Immortal Praise!
Their Rights Municipal maintain'd
Submiss, nor their Allegiance stain'd:
To Loyalty and Conscience true;
Gave Cæsar, and Themselves their Due.
For Slav'ry lost, and Freedom found:
Where thy Brave Sons! in hapless Days,
Wainfleet: To thy Immortal Praise!
Their Rights Municipal maintain'd
Submiss, nor their Allegiance stain'd:
To Loyalty and Conscience true;
Gave Cæsar, and Themselves their Due.
Close to those Tow'rs, by Jove's Command,
The Gardens of Minerva stand.
The Gardens of Minerva stand.
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Thy fav'rite Greens; from Harms defend
Exotick Plants, which finely Bred
In softer Soils, Thy Succour need;
Whose Birth far distant Countries claim,
Sent here in Honour to Thy Name.
To Thee the Strangers trembling fly,
For Shelter from our barb'rous Sky,
And murd'ring Winds, that frequent blow,
With cruel Drifts of Rain or Snow;
And dreadful Ills, both Fall and Spring,
On alien Vegetables bring.
Nor art Thou less inclin'd to save,
Than they Thy gen'rous Aid to crave:
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Thy darling Tribe Thou dost Protect:
Lessen their Fears, their Hopes dilate,
And save their fragrant Souls from Fate:
While they secure in Health and Peace,
Their Covert, and their Guardian bless.
This makes Thee rouze at prime of Day,
Thy doubtful Nurs'ry to survey:
At Noon to count Thy Flock with Care,
And in their Joys and Sorrows share:
(By each Extream unhappy made,
Of too much Sun, or too much Shade:)
Be ready to attend their Cry,
And all their little Wants supply:
By Day severest Sentry keep,
By Night sit by 'em as they Sleep:
With endless Pain, and endless Pleasure,
As Misers guard their hoarded Treasure.
Thy doubtful Nurs'ry to survey:
At Noon to count Thy Flock with Care,
And in their Joys and Sorrows share:
(By each Extream unhappy made,
Of too much Sun, or too much Shade:)
Be ready to attend their Cry,
And all their little Wants supply:
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By Night sit by 'em as they Sleep:
With endless Pain, and endless Pleasure,
As Misers guard their hoarded Treasure.
'Till soft Favonius fanns the Flow'rs,
Breathes balmy Dews, drops fruitful Show'rs:
Favonius soft, that sweetly blows,
The Tulip paints, perfumes the Rose;
And with the gentle Twins at Play,
Brings in th'Elysian Month of May.
Breathes balmy Dews, drops fruitful Show'rs:
Favonius soft, that sweetly blows,
The Tulip paints, perfumes the Rose;
And with the gentle Twins at Play,
Brings in th'Elysian Month of May.
Then boldly from their Lodge, You bring
Your Guests, to deck our gloomy Spring.
Thrice happy Foreigners! to find
Your Guests, to deck our gloomy Spring.
From Islanders, such Treatment kind:
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But by Thy Goodness, BOBART, Thrive:
Grow strong, increase, their Verdure hold,
As dwelling in their native Mold.
The rest, who will no Culture know,
But ceaseless Curse our Rains and Snow:
A sickly, sullen, fretful Race;
The Gard'ner's, and his Art's disgrace:
Whom BOBART's Self in vain does strive,
With all his Skill to keep alive:
Which from beneath the Æquator come,
In India's sultry Forests bloom.
But ceaseless Curse our Rains and Snow:
A sickly, sullen, fretful Race;
The Gard'ner's, and his Art's disgrace:
Whom BOBART's Self in vain does strive,
With all his Skill to keep alive:
Which from beneath the Æquator come,
In India's sultry Forests bloom.
Of these, at least, since Nature more,
Denies t'encrease thy living Store,
Their Barks, or Roots, their Flow'rs, or Leaves,
Thy Hortus Siccus still receives:
In Tomes twice Ten, that Work immense!
By Thee compil'd at vast Expence;
With utmost Diligence amass'd,
And shall as many Ages last.
Denies t'encrease thy living Store,
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Thy Hortus Siccus still receives:
In Tomes twice Ten, that Work immense!
By Thee compil'd at vast Expence;
With utmost Diligence amass'd,
And shall as many Ages last.
My Friend, amidst his Plants and Trees;
Full in the Center, there he stands,
Encircl'd with his verdant Bands;
Who all around Obsequious wait,
To know his Pleasure, and their Fate:
His Royal Orders to receive,
To grow, decay, to die, or live:
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A greater, or more duteous Host.
THOU, all that Pow'r dost truly know,
Which They but dream of here Below;
Thy absolute Despotick Reign,
Inviolably dost maintain:
Nor, with ill-govern'd Wrath, affright
Thy People, or insult their Right:
(But as Thy Might, in Greatness grows,
Thy Mercy, in proportion flows:)
Nor they Undutiful deny,
What's due to Lawful Majesty.
Safe in Thy Court from all the Cares,
Domestick Treasons, Foreign Wars,
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Whom Factions still, or Fav'rites vex.
But THOU, on Thy Botanick Throne,
Sit'st Fearless, Uncontroul'd, Alone:
Thy Realms in Tumults ne'er involv'd,
Or Rising, are as soon dissolv'd:
Free from the Mischiefs, and the Strife,
Of a False Friend, or Fury Wife:
And if a rebel Slave, or Son,
Audacious by Indulgence grown,
Presumes above his Mates to rise,
And their dull Loyalty despise;
THOU, Awful Sultan! with a Look,
Can'st all his Arrogance rebuke;
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Hurl the bold Traytor headlong down:
His Brethren trembling at his Fate,
Thy dread Commands with Rev'rence wait:
Thy wondrous Pow'r, and Justice own,
And learn t'assert a tott'ring Throne.
Thus Kings, that were in Empire wise,
Rebellions early shou'd Chastise;
And give their Clemency no Time,
Betwixt th'Offender, and the Crime,
With fatal Eloquence to plead,
Which does more Rebels only breed.
BOBART, to Kings Thy Rules commend,
For Thou to Monarchs art a Friend.
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The Debt, the promis'd Present made:
Do THOU, what's written for Thy Sake
With Freedom, with like Freedom take:
Take the just Praise Thy Friend does give,
And in my Verse for ever Live.
------ Tibi candida Naïs
Pallentes violas & summa papavera carpens,
Narcissum, & florem jungit bene olentis anethi.
Pallentes violas & summa papavera carpens,
Narcissum, & florem jungit bene olentis anethi.
Virg. Ecl. 2.
FINIS.
| Vertumnus | |