(Sweet solitude!) where warbling birds provoke The silent Muse, delicious rural seat

Of St. John, English Memmius, I presum'd
To sing Britannic trophies, inexpert

Of war, with mean attempt! while he intent
(So Anna's will ordains) to expedite
His military charge, no leisure finds

To string his charming shell: but when return'd
Consummate Peace shall rear her cheerful head,
Then shall his Churchill, in sublimer verse,
For ever triumph; latest times shall learn
From such a chief to fight, and bard to sing.

Quam Gratiarum cura decentium
O! O! labellis cui Venus insidet!
Tu sorte felix: me Maria
Macerat (ah miserum!) videndo:
Maria, quæ me sidereo tuens
Obliqua vultu per medium jecur

Trajecit, atque excussit omnes
Protinus ex animo puellas.
Hanc ulla mentis spe mihi mutuæ
Utcunque desit, nocte, die vigil

Suspiro; nec jam vina somnos
Nec revocant, tua dona, fumi.

ODE

AD HENRICUM ST. JOHN, ARMIG. 1706.

O qui recisa finibus Indicis
Benignus herbæ, das mihi divitem

Haurire succum, et sauveolentes
Sæpe tubis iterare fumos;
Qui solus acri respicis asperum
Siti palatum, proluis et mero,

Dulcem elaborant cui saporem
Hesperii pretiumque, soles:
Ecquid reponam muneris omnium
Exors bonorum? prome reconditum,
Pimplæa, carmen, desidésque
Ad numeros, age, tende chordas.
Ferri secundo mens avet impetu,
Quà cygniformes per liquidum æthera,
Te, diva, vim præbente, vates
Explicuit venusinus alas:

Solers modorum, seu puerum trucem,
Cum matre flavâ, seu caneret rosas
Et vina, cyrrhæis Hetruscum
Rite beans equitem sub antris.

At non Lyæi vis generosior
Affluxit illi; sæpe licet cadum
Jactet Falernum, sæpe Chiæ
Munera, lætitiamque testæ.
Patronus illi non fuit artium
Celebriorum; sed nec amantior

Nec charus æquè. O! quæ medullas
Flamma subit, tacitosque sensus!
Pertentat, ut téque et tua munera
Gratus recordor, mercurialium

Princeps virorum! et ipse Musæ Cultor, et usque colende Musis! Sed me minantem grandia deficit Receptus ægrè spiritus, ilia

Dum pulsat ima, ac inquietum Tussis agens sine more pectus. Altè petito quassat anhelitu; Funesta planè, ni mihi balsamum

Distillet in venas, tuæque
Lenis opem ferat haustus uvæ.
Hanc sumo, parcis et tibi poculis
Libo salutem; quin precor, optima
Ut usque conjux sospitetur,
Perpetuo recreans amore.

Te consulentem militiæ super
Rebus togatum. Macte! tori decus,
Formosa cui Francisca cessit,
Crine placens, niveoque collo!

* He was then secretary of war.

AN ODE

TO HENRY ST. JOHN, ESQ. 1706.

O THOU, from India's fruitful soil,
That dost that sovereign herb 2 prepare,
In whose rich fumes I lose the toil

Of life, and every anxious care:
While from the fragrant lighted bowl
I suck new life into my soul.

Thou, only thou! art kind to view

The parching flames that I sustain; Which with cool draughts thy casks subdue, And wash away the thirsty pain

With wines, whose strength and taste we prize, From Latian suns and nearer skies.

O! say, to bless thy pious love,

What vows, what offerings, shall I bring? Since I can spare, and thou approve,

No other gift, O hear me sing!

In numbers Phoebus does inspire,
Who strings for thee the charming lyre.
Aloft, above the liquid sky,

I stretch my wing, and fain would go
Where Rome's sweet swain did whilom fly;
And, soaring, left the clouds below;
The Muse invoking to endue
With strength his pinions, as he flew.
Whether he sings great Beauty's praise,
Love's gentle pain, or tender woes;
Or choose, the subject of his lays,

The blushing grape, or blooming rose:
Or near cool Cyrrha's rocky springs
Mæcenas listens while he sings.
Yet he no nobler draught could boast,
His Muse or music to inspire,
Though all Falernum's purple coast
Flow'd in each glass, to lend him fire;
And on his tables us'd to smile
The vintage of rich Chio's isle.
Mæcenas deign'd to hear his songs,

His Muse extoll'd, his voice approv'd:
To thee a fairer fame belongs,

At once more pleasing, more belov'd. Oh! teach my heart to bound its flame, As I record thy love and fame.

This piece was translated by the reverend Thomas Newcomb, M. A. of Corpus Christi College, Oxon.

2 Tobacco.

Elfrida's beauty; but, deluded, dy'd

In height of hopes-oh! hardest fate, to fall
By show of friendship, and pretended love!

I nor advise, nor reprehend the choice
Of Marcley-hill; the apple no where finds
A kinder mould: yet 'tis unsafe to trust
Deceitful ground: who knows but that, once more,
This mount may journey, and, his present site
Forsaking, to thy neighbour's bounds transfer
The goodly plants, affording matter strange
For law-debates? if therefore thou incline
To deck this rise with fruits of various tastes,
Fail not by frequent vows t' implore success;
Thus piteous Heaven may fix the wandering glebe.
But if (for Nature doth not share alike
Her gifts) an happy soil should be withheld;
If a penurious clay should be thy lot,
Or rough unwieldy earth, nor to the plough,
Nor to the cattle kind, with sandy stones
And gravel o'er-abounding, think it not
Beneath thy toil; the sturdy pear-tree here
Will rise luxuriant, and with toughest root
Pierce the obstructing grit, and restive marle.
Thus nought is useless made; nor is there land,
But what, or of itself, or else compell'd,
Affords advantage. On the barren heath
The shepherd tends his flock, that daily crop
Their verdant dinner from the mossy turf,
Sufficient; after them the cackling goose,
Close-grazer, finds wherewith to ease her want.
What should I more? Ev'n on the cliffy height
Of Penmenmaur, and that cloud-piercing hill,
Plinlimmon, from afar the traveller kens
Astonish'd, how the goats their shrubby browze
Gnaw pendent; nor untrembling canst thou sce,
How from a scraggy rock, whose prominence
Half overshades the ocean, hardy men,
Fearless of rending winds, and dashing waves,
Cut samphire, to excite the squeamish gust
Of pamper'd luxury. Then, let thy ground
Not lie unlabor'd; if the richest stem
Refuse to thrive, yet who would doubt to plant
Somewhat, that may to human use redound,
And penury, the worst of ills, remove?

There are, who, fondly studious of increase,
Rich foreign mould on their ill-natur'd land
Induce laborious, and with fattening muck
Besmear the roots; in vain! the nursling grove
Seems fair a while, cherish'd with foster earth:
But when the alien compost is exhaust,
Its native poverty again prevails.

Though this art fails, despond not; little pains,
In a due hour employ'd, great profit yield.
Th' industrious, when the Sun in Leo rides,
And darts his sultriest beams, portending drought,
Forgets not at the foot of every plant
To sink a circling trench, and daily pour
A just supply of alimental streams,
Exhausted sap recruiting; else false hopes
He cherishes, nor will his fruit expect
Th' autumnal season, but, in summer's pride,
When other orchats smile, abortive fail.

1 February the seventh, 1571, at six o'clock in the evening, this hill roused itself with a roaring noise, and by seven the next morning had moved forty paces; it kept moving for three days together, carrying with it sheep in their cotes, hedgerows and trees, and in its passage overthrew Kinmaston Chapple, and turned two highways near an

Thus the great light of Heaven, that in his course
Surveys and quickens all things, often proves
Noxious to planted fields, and often men
Perceive his influence dire; sweltering they run
To grots, and caves, and the cool umbrage seek
Of woven arborets, and oft the rills
Still streaming fresh revisit, to allay
Thirst inextinguishable: but if the spring
Preceding should be destitute of rain,
Or blast septentrional with brushing wings
Sweep up the smoky mists, and vapours damp,
Then woe to mortals! Titan then exerts
His heat intense, and on our vitals preys;
Then maladies of various kinds, and names
Unknown, malignant fevers, and that foe.
To blooming beauty, which imprints the face
Of fairest nymph, and checks our growing love,
Reign far and near; grim Death in different shapes
Depopulates the nations; thousands fall

His victims; youths, and virgins, in their flower,
Reluctant die, and sighing leave their loves
Unfinish'd, by infectious heaven destroy'd.

Such heats prevail'd, when fair Eliza, last
Of Winchcomb's name (next thee in blood and worth,
O fairest St. John!) left this toilsome world
In beauty's prime, and sadden'd all the year:
Nor could her virtues, nor repeated vows
Of thousand lovers, the relentiess hand
Of Death arrest; she with the vulgar fell,
Only distinguish'd by this humble verse.

But if it please the Sun's intemperate force
To know, attend; whilst I of ancient fame
The annals trace, and image to thy mind,
How our forefathers, (luckless men!) ingulft
By the wide-yawning Earth, to Stygian shades
Went quick, in one sad sepulchre enclos'd.

In elder days, ere yet the Roman bands
Victorious, this our other world subdued,
A spacious city stood, with firmest walls
Sure mounded, and with numerous turrets crown'd,
Aerial spires, and citadels, the seat
Of kings, and heroes resolute in war,
Fam'd Ariconium: uncontrol'd and free,
Till all-subduing Latian arms prevail'd.
Then also, though to foreign yoke submiss,
She undemolish'd stood, and ev'n till now
Perhaps had stood, of ancient British art
A pleasing monument, not less admir'd
Than what from Attic, or Etruscan hands
Arose; had not the heavenly Powers averse
Decreed her final doom: for now the fields
Labour'd with thirst; Aquarius had not shed
His wonted showers, and Sirius parch'd with heat
Solstitial the green herb: hence 'gan relax
The ground's contexture, hence Tartarian dregs,
Sulphur, and nitrous spume, enkindling fierce,
Bellow'd within their darksome caves, by far
More dismal than the loud disploded roar
Of brazen enginry, that ceaseless storm
The bastion of a well-built city, deem'd
Impregnable: th' infernal winds, till now
Closely imprison'd, by Titanian warmth
hundred yards from their former position. The
ground thus moved was about twenty-six acres,
which opened itself, and carried the earth before it
for four hundred yards space, leaving that which
was pasture in the place of the tillage, and the till-
age overspread with pasture. See Speed's Account
of Herefordshire, page 49, and Camden's Britannia.

Dilating, and with unctuous vapours fed,
Disdain'd their narrow cells; and, their full strength
Collecting, from beneath the solid mass
Upheav'd, and all her castles rooted deep
Shook from their lowest seat: old Vaga's stream,
Forc'd by the sudden shock, her wonted track
Forsook, and drew her humid train aslope,
Crankling her banks: and now the lowering sky,
And baleful lightning, and the thunder, voice
Of angry gods, that rattled solemn, dismay'd
The sinking hearts of men. Where should they turn
Distress'd? whence seek for aid? when from below
Hell threatens, and ev'n Face supreme gives signs
Of wrath and desolation? vain were vows,
And plaints, and suppliant hands to Heaven erect!
Yet some to fanes repair'd, and humble rites
Perform'd to Thor, and Woden, fabled gods,
Who with their votaries in one ruin shar'd,
Crush'd, and o'erwhelm'd. Others in frantic mood
Run howling through the streets; their hideous yells
Rend the dark welkin; Horror stalks around,
Wild-staring, and, his sad concomitant,
Despair, of abject look: at every gate
The thronging populace with hasty strides
Press furious, and, too eager of escape,
Obstruct the easy way; the rocking town
Supplants their footsteps: to, and fro, they reel
Astonish'd, as o'ercharg'd with wine; when lo!
The ground adust her riven mouth disparts,
Horrible chasm, profound! with swift descent
Old Ariconium sinks, and all her tribes,
Heroes, and senators, down to the realms
Of endless night. Meanwhile, the loosen'd winds,
Infuriate, molten rocks and flaming globes
Hurl'd high above the clouds; till all their force
Consum'd, her ravenous jaws th' Earth satiate clos'd.
Thus this fair city fell, of which the name
Survives alone; nor is there found a mark,
Whereby the curious passenger may learn
Her ample site, save coins, and mouldering urns,
And huge unwieldy bones, lasting remains
Of that gigantic race; which, as he breaks
The clotted glebe, the ploughman haply finds,
Appall'd. Upon that treacherous tract of land,
She whilome stood; now Ceres, in her prime,
Smiles fertile, and with ruddiest freight bedeek'd,
The apple-tree, by our forefathers blood
Improv'd, that now recalls the devious Muse,
Urging her destin'd labours to pursue.

The prudent will observe, what passions reign
In various plants (for not to man alone,
But all the wide creation, Nature gave
Love, and aversion) everlasting hate
The Vine to Ivy bears, nor less abhors

The Colewort's rankness; but with amorous twine
Clasps the tall Elm: the Pæstan Rose unfolds
Her bud more lovely, near the fetid Leek,
(Crest of stout Britons) and enhances thence
The price of her celestial scent: the Gourd,
And thirsty Cucumber, when they perceive
Th' approaching Olive, with resentment fly
Her fatty fibres, and with tendrils creep
Diverse, detesting contact; whilst the Fig
Contemns not Rue, nor Sage's humble leaf,
Close-neighbouring: th' Herefordian plant
Caresses freely the contiguous Peach,
Hazel, and weight-resisting Palm, and likes
T'approach the Quince, and the Elder's pithy stem;
Uneasy, seated by funereal Yew,

Or Walnut, (whose malignant touch impairs

All generous fruits) or near the bitter dews
Of Cherries. Therefore weigh the habits well
Of plants, how they associate best, nor let
Ill neighbourhood corrupt thy hopeful graffs.
Would'st thou thy vats with gen'rous juice should
froth?

Respect thy orchats; think not, that the trees
Spontaneous will produce an wholesome draught.
Let Art correct thy breed: from parent bough
A cion meetly sever: after, force

A way into the crabstock's close-wrought grain
By wedges, and within the living wound
Enclose the foster twig; nor over-nice
Refuse with thy own hands around to spread
The binding clay: ere-long their differing veins
Unite, and kindly nourishment convey
To the new pupil; now he shoots his arms
With quickest growth; now shake the teeming trunk,
Down rain th' empurpled balls, ambros al fruit.
Whether the Wilding's fibres are contriv'd
To draw th' earth's purest spirit, and resist
It's feculence, which in more porous stocks
Of cider-plants finds passage free, or else
The native verjuice of the Crab, deriv'd
Through th' infix'd graff, a grateful mixture forms
Of tart and sweet; whatever be the cause,
This doubtful progeny by nicest tastes
Expected best acceptance finds, and pays
Largest revenues to the orchat-lord.

Some think the Quince and Apple would combine
In happy union; others fitter deem
The Sloe-stem bearing Sylvan Plumbs austere.
Who knows but both may thrive? howe'er, what loss
To try the powers of both, and search how far
Two different natures may concur to mix
In close embraces, and strange offspring bear?
Thou 'lt find that plants will frequent changes try,
Undamag'd, and their marriageable arms
Conjoin with others. So Silurian plants
Admit the Peach's odoriferous globe,

And Pears of sundry forms; at different times
Adopted Plumbs will alien branches grace;
And men have gather'd from the Hawthorn's branch
Large Medlars, imitating regal crowns.

[waves,

Nor is it hard to beautify each month With files of parti-colour'd fruits, that please The tongue, and view, at once. So Maro's Muse, Thrice sacred Muse! commodious precepts gives Instructive to the swains, not wholly bent On what is gainful: sometimes she diverts From solid counsels, shows the force of love In savage beasts; how virgin face divine Attracts the helpless youth through storms and Alone, in deep of night: then she describes The Scythian winter, nor disdains to sing How under ground the rude Riphæan race Mimic brisk Cyder with the brakes product wild; Sloes pounded, Hips, and Servis' harshest juice. Let sage Experience teach thee all the arts Of grafting and in-eyeing; when to lop The flowing branches; what trees answer best From root, or kernel: she will best the hours Of harvest, and seed-time declare; by her The different qualities of things were found, And secret motions; how with heavy bulk Volatile Hermes, fluid and unmoist, Mounts on the wings of air; to her we owe The Indian weed 2, unknown to ancient times,

a Tobacco.

Nature's choice gift, whose acrimonious fume
Extracts superfluous juices, and refines
The blood distemper'd from its noxious salts;
Friend to the spirits, which with vapours bland
It gently mitigates, companion fit

Of pleasantry, and wine; nor to the bards
Unfriendly, when they to the vocal shell
Warble melodious their well-labour'd songs.
She found the polish'd glass, whose small convex
Enlarges to ten millions of degrees

The mite, invisible else, of Nature's hand
Least animal; and shows, what laws of life
The cheese-inhabitants observe, and how
Fabric their mansions in the harden'd milk,
Wonderful artists! But the hidden ways

Of Nature would'st thou know? how first she frames
All things in miniature? Thy specular orb
Apply to well-dissected kernels; lo!
Strange forms arise, in each a little plant
Unfolds its boughs: observe the slender threads
Of first beginning trees, their roots, their leaves,
In narrow seeds describ'd; thou'lt wondering say,
An inmate orchat every apple boasts.
Thus all things by experience are display'd,
And most improv'd. Then sedulously think
To meliorate thy stock; no way, or rule,
Be unassay'd; prevent the morning star
Assiduous, nor with the western Sun
Surcease to work; lo! thoughtful of thy gain,
Not of my own, I all the live-long day
Consume in meditation deep, recluse
From human converse, nor, at shut of eve,
Enjoy repose; but oft at midnight lamp
Ply my brain-racking studies, if by chance
Thee I may counsel right; and oft this care
Disturbs me slumbering. Wilt thou then repine
To labour for thyself? and rather choose
To lie supinely, hoping Heaven will bless
Thy slighted fruits, and give thee bread unearn'd?
'Twill profit, when the stork, sworn foe of snakes,
Returns, to show compassion to thy plants,
Fatigu'd with breeding. Let the arched knife
Well sharpen'd now assail the spreading shades
Of vegetables, and their thirsty limbs
Dissever: for the genial moisture, due
To apples, otherwise mispends itself
In barren twigs, and for th' expected crop,
Nought but vain shoots, and empty leaves abound.
When swelling buds their odorous foliage shed,
And gently harden into fruit, the wise
Spare not the little offsprings, if they grow
Redundant; but the thronging clusters thin
By kind avulsion: else the starveling brood,
Void of sufficient sustenance, will yield
A slender autumn; which the niggard soul
Too late shall weep, and curse his thrifty hand,
That would not timely ease the ponderous boughs.
It much conduces, all the cares to know
Of gardening, how to scare nocturnal thieves,
And how the little race of birds that hop
From spray to spray, scooping the costliest fruit
Insatiate, undisturb'd. Priapus' form
Avails but little; rather guard each row
With the false terrours of a breathless kite.
This done, the timorous flock with swiftest wing
Scud through the air; their fancy represents
His mortal talons, and his ravenous beak
Destructive; glad to shun his hostile gripe,
They quit their thefts, and unfrequent the fields.
Besides, the filthy swine will oft invade

Thy firm enclosure, and with delving snout
The rooted forest undermine: forthwith
Halloo thy furious mastiff, bid him vex
The noxious herd, and print upon their ears
A sad memorial of their past offence.

The flagrant Procyon will not fail to bring
Large shoals of slow house-bearing snails, that creep
O'er the ripe fruitage, paring slimy tracts
In the sleek rinds, and unprest Cider drink.
No art averts this pest; on thee it lies,
With morning and with evening hand to rid
The preying reptiles; nor, if wise, wilt thou
Decline this labour, which itself rewards
With pleasing gain, whilst the warm limbec draws
Salubrious waters from the nocent brood.

Myriads of wasps now also clustering hang, And drain a spurious honey from thy groves, Their winter food; though oft repuls'd, again They rally, undismay'd; but fraud with ease Ensnares the noisome swarms; let every bough Bear frequent vials, pregnant with the dregs Of Moyle, or Mum, or Treacle's viscous juice; They, by th' alluring odour drawn, in haste Fly to the dulcet cates, and crowding sip Their palatable bane; joyful thou 'It see The clammy surface all o'erstrown with tribes Of greedy insects, that with fruitless toil Flap filmy pennons oft, to extricate Their feet, in liquid shackles bound, till death Bereave them of their worthless souls: such door Waits luxury, and lawless love of gain!

Howe'er thou may'st forbid external force, Intestine evils will prevail; damp airs, And rainy winters, to the centre pierce The firmest fruits, and by unseen decay The proper relish vitiate: then the grub Oft unobserv'd invades the vital core, Pernicious tenant, and her secret cave Enlarges hourly, preying on the pulp Ceaseless; meanwhile the apple's outward form Delectable the witless swain beguiles, Till, with a writhen mouth, and spattering noise, He tastes the bitter morsel, and rejects Disrelish'd; not with less surprise, than when Embattled troops with flowing banners pass Through flowery meads delighted, nor distrust The smiling surface; whilst the cavern'd ground, With grain incentive stor'd, by sudden blaze Bursts fatal, and involves the hopes of war, In fiery whirls; full of victorious thoughts, Torn and dismember'd, they aloft expire.

Now turn thine eye to view Alcinous' groves, The pride of the Phæacian isle, from whence, Sailing the spaces of the boundless deep, To Ariconium precious fruits arriv'd: The Pippin burnish'd o'er with gold, the Moyle Of sweetest honied taste, the fair Permain Temper'd, like comliest nymph, with red and white Salopian acres flourish with a growth Peculiar, styl'd the Ottley: be thou first This apple to transplant; if to the name Its merit answers, no where shalt thou find A wine more priz'd, or laudable of taste. Nor does the Eliot least deserve thy care, Nor John-Apple, whose wither'd rind, intrencht With many a furrow, aptly represents Decrepid age, nor that from Harvey nam'd, Quick-relishing: why should we sing the Thrift Codling, or Pomroy, or of pimpled coat The Russet, or the Cat's-Head's weighty orb,