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Betwixt the subject, and the verse ;
To peace, my Friend! that thou and I, No colors fluttering in the sky; With frightful faces, glittering arms (Bellona's military charms); May uodisturb'd and studious rove, O'er every lawn, through every grove.
See various Nature, in each field,
With golden hair the God of day
To see him roll his fiery race
Mild Zephirus the Graces leads, To revel o'er the fragrant meads; The mountains shout, the forests ring, While Flora decks the purple Spring : The Hours attendant all the while On Zephirus and Flora smile: The vallies laugh, the rivers play, In honor of the God of day.
The birds, that fan the liquid air,
The vegetable earth beneath' Bids all her plants his praises breathe : Clouds of fresh fragrance upwards rise, To cheer his progress through the skies ; And heaven, and earth, and air unite, To celebrate his heat and light: That light and heat which on our world From his gay chariot-wheels are hurld ; And every morn do rosy rise,
To glad our dampy, darksome skies :
But Gardening were of all a toil,
Ev’n thou-though that's thy meanest praise, Nor fruits nor flowers could'st 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, Range them 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 flowering heady to grace To shed ambrosial odors round, And, paint with choicest dyes, the ground.
the year ;
Thou, next to him, art truly great ; On earth his mighty delegate :
The vegetable world to guide,
Nor with a care beneath thy skill Dost thou that vast employment fill.
Hail, Horticulture's sapient king!
For thou’rt not satisfied to know
Whate'er the sea or ocean rolls;
Noblest ambition of thy soul ! Which limits but in vain control, Let others, meanly satisfy'd With partial knowledge sooth their pride : Whilst thou, with thy prodigious store, But show'st thy modesty the more.
Thou venerable Patriarch wise, Instruct us in thy mysteries : From thee the Gods no knowledge hide, No knowledge have to thee deny’d: The rural Gods of hills or plains, Where Faunus or Favonia reigns.
Then tell us, as thou best dost know, Where perfect happiness does grow, What herbs or bodies will sustain Secure from sickness, and from pain : What plants protect us from the rage Of blighting time, or blasting age; Which shrubs, of all the flowery field, Most aromatic odors yield.
Shew us the trees by Nature spread, To form the coolest noon-tide shade;