To a lord's houfe, as lordly as can be,
Made for the ufe of pride and luxury,
They come; the gentle courtier at the door
Stops, and will hardly enter in before;
But 'tis, fir, your command, and being fo,
I'm fworn t' obedience; and fo in they go.
Behind a hanging in a spacious room
(The richeft work of Mortelake's noble loom)
They wait a while, their wearied limbs to reft,
Till filence fhould invite them to their feat.
"About the hour that Cynthia's filver light
"Had touch'd the pale meridies of the night;"
At laft, the various fupper being done,

It happen'd that the company was gone
Into a room remote, fervants and all,
To please their noble fancies with a ball.
Our hoft leads forth his ftranger, and does find
All fitted to the bounties of his mind.
Still on the table half-fill'd dishes flood,

And with delicious bits the floor was ftrew'd.
The courteous mouse presents him with the best,
And both with fat varieties are bleft.

Th' induftrious peafant every where does range,
And thanks the gods for his life's happy change.
Lo! in the midst of a well-freighted pye,
They both at laft glutted and wanton lie;
When, fee the fad reverse of profperous fate,
And what fierce ftorms on mortal glories wait!
With hideous noife down the rude fervants come,
Six dogs before run barking into th' room;
The wretched gluttons fly with wild affright,
And hate the fullness, which retards their flight.
Our trembling peafant wifhes now, in vain,
That rocks and mountains cover'd him again;
Oh, how the change of his poor life he curit !
This, of all lives (faid he) is fure the worft t
Give me again, ye gods, my cave and wood!
With peace, let tares and acorns be my food!

A PARAPHRASE UPON THE TENTH EPISTLE OF THE
FIRST BOOK OF HORACE.

HORACE TO FUSCUS ARISTIUS.
HEALTH, from the lover of the country, me,
Health, to the lover of the city, thee;
A difference in our fouls, this only proves;
In all things elfe, we agree like married doves.
But the warm neft and crowded dove-house thou
Doft like; I loosely fly from bough to bough,
And rivers drink, and all the fhining day
Upon fair trees or moffy rocks I play;

In a proud rage, Who can that Aglais be!
We have heard, as yet, of no fuch king as he.
And true it was, through the whole earth around
No king of fuch a name was to be found.
Is fome old hero of that name alive,

Who his high race does from the gods derive?
Is it fome mighty general, that has done
Wonders in fight, and godlike honours won?
Is it fome man of endlefs wealth? faid he.
None, none of thefe. Who can this Aglais be?
After long fearch, and vain enquiries paft,

In an obfcure Arcadian vale at laft

(Th' Arcadian life has always fhady been)
Near Sopho's town (which he but once had feen)
This Aglais, who monarch's envy drew,
Whofe happiness the god: ftood witness to,
This mighty Aglaüs, was labouring found,
With his own hands, in his own little ground.
So, gracious God! (if it may lawful be,
Among thofe foolish gods to mention thee)
So let me act, on fuch a private stage,
The last doll feces of my declining age;
After long toils and voyages in vain,
This quiet port let my toft veffel gain;
Of heavenly reft, this earneft to me lend,
Let my life fleep, and learn to love her end.

I

V.

THE GARDEN.

TO J. EVELYN, ESQUIRE.

NEVER had any other defire fo ftrong and fo like to covetoufnefs, as that one which I have had always, that I might be master at last of a small house and large garden, with very moderate conveniences joined them, and there dedicate the remainder of my life only to the culture of them, and fludy of nature;

And there (with no defign beyond my wall) whole and intire to lie,

In no unactive eafe, and no unglorious poverty.

Or, as Virgil has faid, fhorter and better for me, that I might there

"Studiis florere ignobilis oti*:"

(though I could wish that he had rather faid, "Nobilis oti," when he spoke of his own.) But feveral accidents of my ill-fortune have disappointed me hitherto, and do still, of that felicity; for though I have made the firit and hardeft ftep to it, by abandoning all ambitions and hopes in this world, and by retiring from the noife of all business and almoft company, yet I flick ftill in the inn of a hired house and garden, among weeds and rubbish; and without that pleasanteft work of human induftry, the improvement of fomething which we call (not very properly, but yet we call) our own. I am gone out from Sodom, but I am not yet arrived at my little Zoar. "O let me escape thither (is it not a little one?) and my foul fhall live." I do not look back yet; but I have been forced to flop, and make too many halts. You may wonder, Sir, (for

Virg. Georg. iv. 564.

this feems a little too extravagant and pindarical for profe) what I mean by all this preface; it is to let you know, that though I have misled, like a chemist, my great end, yet I account my affections and endeavours well rewarded by fomething that I have met with by the bye; which is, that they have procured to me fome part in your kindnefs and efteem; and thereby the honour of having my name fo advantageoufly recommended to pofterity, by the epiftle you are pleafed to prefix to the most useful book that has been written in that kind, and which is to last as long as months and years. Among many other arts and excellencies, which you enjoy, I am glad to find this favourite of mine the most predominant; that you choose this for your wife, though you have hundreds of other arts for your concubines; though you know them, and beget fons upon them all (to which you are rich enough to allow great legacies), yet the iffue of this feems to be defigned by you to the main of the cftate; you have taken moft pleafure in it, and beftowed moft charges upon its education: and I doubt not to fee that book, which you are pleafed to promife to the world, and of which you have given us a large earneft in your calendar, as accomplished, as any thing can be expected from an extraordinary wit, and no ordinary expences, and a long experience. I know nobody that poffeffes more private happinefs than you do in your garden; and yet no man, who makes his happiness more public, by a free communication of the art and knowledge of it to others. All that I myfelf am able yet to do, is only to recommend to mankind the fearch of that felicity, which you inftruct them how to find and to enjoy.

Happy art thou, whom God does blefs
With the full choice of thine own happiness;
And happier yet, becaufe thou'rt bleft
With prudence, how to choose the best:
In books and gardens thou haft plac'd aright
(Things, which thou well doft understand;
And both doft make with thy laborious hand).
Thy noble, innocent delight;

And in thy virtuous wife, where thou again doft meet
Both pleasures more refin'd and fweet ;

The fairest garden in her looks,

And in her mind the wifeft books.

Oh, who would change thefe foft, yet folid joys,
For empty shows and fenfclefs noife;

And all which rank ambition breeds,

Which feem fuch beauteous flowers, and are such poisonous weeds?
When God did man to his own likeness make,

As much as clay, though of the pureft kind,
By the great potter's art refin'd,

Could the divine impreffion take,
He thought it fit to place him, where
A kind of heaven too did appear,

As far as earth could fuch a likeness bear:
That man no happiness might want,
Which earth to her first mafter could afford,
He did a garden for him plant

By the quick hand of his omnipotent word.

As the chief help and joy of human life,

He gave him the firft gift; firit, ev'n before a wife.

For God, the univerfal architect,

'T had been as easy to erect

Mr. Evelyn's "Kalendarium hortenfe;" dedicated to Mr. Cowley-The title explains the propriety of the compliment, that this book was to laft as long as months and years. HURD.

A Louvre or Efcurial, or a tower

That might with heaven communication hold,
As Babel vainly thought to do of old:
He wanted not the fkill or power;

In the world's fabric those were shown,
And the materials were all his own.

But well he knew, what place would beft agree
With innocence, and with felicity:

And we elsewhere ftill feek for them in vain
If any part of either yet remain,

If any part of either we expect,

This may our judgment in the fearch direct;
God the first garden made, and the firft city Cain.
O bleffed fhades! O gentle, cool retreat

From all th' immoderate heat,

In which the frantic world does burn and fweat!
This does the lion-star, ambition's rage;
This avarice, the dog-ftar's thirst, affuage;
Every where else their fatal power we see,
They make and rule man's wretched destiny:
They neither fet, nor disappear,

But tyrannize o'er all the year;

Whilft we ne'er feel their flame or influence here.
The birds that dance from bough to bough,
And fing above in every tree,

Are not from fears and cares more free

Than we, who lie, or fit, or walk, below,
And fhould by right be fingers too.

What prince's choir of mufic can excel

That, which within this fhade does dwell?
To which we nothing pay or give;

They, like all other poets, live

Without reward, or thanks, for their obliging pains 'Tis well if they become not prey:

"I he whistling winds add their lefs artful ftrains,
And a grave bafs the murmuring fountains play;
Nature does all this harmony beftow,

But to our plants, art's music too,
The pipe, theorbo, and guittar, we owe;
The lute itfelf, which once was green and mute,
When Orpheus ftrook th' infpired lute,
The trees danc'd round, and understood
By fympathy the voice of wood.

Thefe are the spells, that to kind sleep invite,
And nothing does within refiftance make,
Which yet we moderately take;

Who would not choose to be awake,

While he's encompast round with fuch delight,
To th' ear, the nofe, the touch, the tafte, and fight?
When Venus would her dear Afcanius keep*

A prifoner in the downy bands of fleep,

She odorous herbs and flowers beneath him spread,
As the most foft and sweetest bed;

Virg. Æn. i. 695.

To II.

Not her own lap would more have charm'd his head.
Who, that has reafon, and his fmell,

Would not among rofes and jafamine dwell,
Rather than all his fpirits choak

With exhalations of dirt and smoke,

And all th' uncleannefs which does drown,
In peftilential clouds, a populous town?
The earth itself breathes better perfumes here,
Than all the female men, or women, there,
Not without caufe, about them bear.
When Epicurus to the world had taught,
That pleasure was the chiefeft good

(And was, perhaps, i' th' right, if rightly underfood)
His life he to his doctrine brought,

And in a garden's fhade that fovereign pleasure fought:
Whoever a true epicure would be,

May there find cheap and virtuous luxury.

Vitellius's table, which did hold

As many creatures as the ark of old;
That fifcal table, to which every day
All countries did a conftant tribute pay,
Could nothing more delicious afford
Than nature's liberality,

Help'd with a little art and induftry,
Allows the meaneft gardener's board,
The wanton tafte no fish or fowl can choose,
For which the grape or melon fhe would lofe;
Though all th' inhabitants of fea and air
Be lifted in the glutton's bill of fare,

Yet ftill the fruits of earth we fee
Plac'd the third story high in all her luxury,
But with no fenfe the garden does comply,
None courts, or flatters, as it does the eye.
When the great Hebrew king did almost strain
The wondrous treasures of his wealth and brain,
His royal fouthern guest to entertain;

Though fhe on filver floors did tread,
With bright Affyrian carpets on them spread,
To hide the metal's poverty;
Though the look'd up to roofs of gold,
And nought around her could behold
But filk and rich embroidery,

And Babylonifh tapestry,

And wealthy Hiram's princely dye;

Though Ophir's ftarry ftones met every where her eye;

Though the herself and her gay hoft were dreft

With all the fhining glories of the Eaft;
When lavish art her coftly work had done,
The honour and the prize of bravery
Was by the garden from the palace won;
And every rofe and lilly there did ftand
Better attir'd by nature's hand *.