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Enormous in its growth, for various use
Though these are meet, though after full repast
Are oft requir'd, and crown the rich dessert?
What, though the Pear-tree rival not the worth
Of Ariconian products? yet her freight
Is not contemn'd, yet her wide-branching arms
Best screen thy mansion from the fervent Dog,
Adverse to life; the wintry hurricanes

In vain employ their roar, her trunk unmov'd
Breaks the strong onset, and controls their rage.
Chiefly the Bosbury, whose large increase,
Annual, in sumptuous banquets claims applause.
Thrice acceptable beverage! could but Art
Subdue the floating lee, Pomona's self

Would dread thy praise, and shun the dubious strife.

Be it thy choice, when summer-heats annoy,
To sit beneath her leafy canopy,
Quaffing rich liquids! oh! how sweet t' enjoy,
At once her fruits, and hospitable shade!

But how with equal numbers shall we match
The Musk's surpassing worth; that earliest gives
Sure hopes of racy wine, and in its youth,
Its tender nonage, loads the spreading boughs
With large and juicy offspring, that defies
The vernal nippings, and cold sideral blasts!
Yet let her to the Red-streak yield, that once
Was of the sylvan kind, unciviliz'd,

Of no regard, till Scudamore's skilful hand
Improv'd her, and by courtly discipline
Taught her the savage nature to forget:
Hence styl'd the Scudamorean plant; whose wine
Whoever tastes, let him with grateful heart
Respect that ancient loyal house, and wish
The nobler peer, that now transcends our hopes
In early worth, his country's justest pride,
Uninterrupted joy, and health entire.

Let every tree in every garden own

The Red-streak as supreme, whose pulpous fruit
With gold irradiate, and vermilion shines
Tempting, not fatal, as the birth of that
Primeval interdicted plant that won
Fond Eve in hapless hour to taste, and die.
This, of more bounteous influence, inspires
Poetic raptures, and the lowly Muse
Kindles to loftier strains; even I perceive
Her sacred virtue. See! the numbers flow
Easy, whilst, cheer'd with her nectareous juice,
Hers, and my country's praises I exalt.
Hail Herefordian plant, that dost disdain
All other fields! Heaven's sweetest blessing, hail!
Be thou the copious matter of my song,
And thy choice nectar; on which always waits
Laughter, and sport, and care-beguiling wit,
And friendship, chief delight of human life.
What should we wish for more? or why, in quest
Of foreign vintage, insincere, and mixt,
Traverse th' extremest world? why tempt the rage
Of the rough ocean? when our native glebe
Imparts, from bounteous womb, annual recruits
Of wine delectable, that far surmounts
Gallic, or Latin grapes, or those that see
The setting sun near Calpe's towering height.
Nor let the Rhodian, nor the Lesbian vines
Vaunt their rich Must, nor let Tokay contend
For sovereignty; Phanæus self must bow
To th' Ariconian vales: and shall we doubt
T'improve our vegetable wealth, or let
The soil lie idle, which, with fit manure,
With largest usury repay, alone

Empowered to supply what Nature asks
Frugal, or what nice appetite requires?
The meadows here, with battening ooze enrich'd,
Give spirit to the grass; three cubits high
The jointed herbage shoots; th' unfallow'd glebe
Yearly o'ercomes the granaries with store
Of golden wheat, the strength of human life.
Lo, on auxiliary poles, the hops
Ascending spiral, rang'd in meet array!
Lo, how the arable with barley-grain
Stands thick, o'ershadow'd, to the thirsty hind
Transporting prospect! these, as modern use
Ordains, infus'd, an auburn drink compose,
Wholesome, of deathless fame. Here, to the sight,
Apples of price, and plenteous sheaves of corn,
Oft interlac'd occur, and both imbibe
Fitting congenial juice; so rich the soil,
So much does fructuous moisture o'er-abound!
Nor are the hills unamiable, whose tops
To Heaven aspire, affording prospect sweet
To human ken; nor at their feet the vales
Descending gently, where the lowing herd
Chew verdurous pasture; nor the yellow fields
Gaily' interchang'd, with rich variety
Pleasing; as when an emerald green, enchas'd
In flamy gold, from the bright mass acquires
A nobler hue, more delicate to sight.
Next add the sylvan shades, and silent groves,
(Haunt of the Druids) whence the Earth is fed
With copious fuel; whence the sturdy oak,
A prince's refuge once, th' eternal guard
Of England's throne, by sweating peasants fell'd,
Stems the vast main, and bears tremendous war
To distant nations, or with sov'reign sway
Awes the divided world to peace and love.
Why should the Chalybes, or Bilboa boast
Their harden'd iron; when our mines produce
As perfect martial ore? can Tmolus' head
Vie with our saffron odours? or the fleece
Bætic, or finest Tarentine, compare
With Lemster's silken woo!? where shall we find
Men more undaunted, for their country's weal
More prodigal of life? In ancient days
The Roman legions, and great Cæsar, found
Our fathers no mean foes: and Cressy's plains,
And Agincourt, deep-ting'd with blood, confess
What the Silures vigour unwithstood
Could do in rigid fight; and chiefly what
Brydges' wide-wasting hand, first garter'd knight,
Puissant author of great Chandos' stem,
High Chandos, that transmits paternal worth,
Prudence, and ancient prowess, and renown,
This noble offspring. O thrice happy peer!
That, blest with hoarywigour, view'st thyself
Fresh blooming in thy generous son; whose lips,
Flowing with nervous eloquence exact,
Charm the wise senate, and attention win
In deepest councils: Ariconium pleas'd,
Him, as her chosen worthy, first salutes.
Him on th' Iberian, on the Gallic shore,
Him hardy Britons bless; his faithful hand
Conveys new courage from afar, nor more
The general's conduct, than his care avails.

Thee also, glorious branch of Cecil's line,
This country claims; with pride and joy to thee
Thy Alterennis calls: yet she endures
Patient thy absence, since thy prudent choice
Has fix'd thee in the Muses' fairest seat 3,

9 Oxford.

Where Aldrich 4 reigns, and from his endless store
Of universal knowledge still supplies

His noble care; he generous thoughts instils
Of true nobility, their country's love,
(Chief end of life) and forms their ductile minds
To human virtues: by his genius led,
Thou soon in every art pre-eminent

men,

Shalt grace this isle, and rise to Burleigh's fame.
Hail high-born peer! and thou, great nurse of arts,
And from whence conspicuous patriots spring,
Hanmer, and Bromley; thou, to whom with due
Respect Wintonia bows, and joyful owns
Thy mitred offspring; be for ever blest
With like examples, and to future times
Proficuous, such a race of men produce,
As, in the cause of virtue firm, may fix

Her throne inviolate. Hear, ye gods, this vow
From one, the meanest in her numerous train;
Though meanest, not least studious of her praise.
Muse, raise thy voice to Beaufort's spotless fame,
To Beaufort, in a long descent derived
From royal ancestry, of kingly rights
Faithful asserters, in him centering meet
Their glorious virtues, high desert from pride
Disjoin'd, unshaken honour, and contempt
Of strong allurements. O illustrious prince!
O thou of ancient faith! exulting, thee,
In her fair list this happy land enrolls.
Who can refuse a tributary verse

To Weymouth, firmest friend of slighted worth
In evil days? whose hospitable gate,
Unbarr'd to all, invites a numerous train

Of daily guests; whose board, with plenty crown'd,
Revives the feast-rites old: meanwhile his care
Forgets not the afflicted, but content

In acts of secret goodness, shuns the praise,
That sure attends. Permit me, bounteous lord,
To blazon what, though hid, will beauteous shine,
And with thy name to dignify my song.

But who is he, that on the winding stream
Of Vaga first drew vital breath, and now
Approv'd in Anna's secret councils sits,
Weighing the sum of things, with wise forecast
Solicitous of public good? how large

His mind, that comprehends whate'er was known
To old, or present time; yet not elate,
Not conscious of its skill? what praise deserves
His liberal hand, that gathers but to give,
Preventing suit? O not unthankful Muse,
Him lowly reverence, that first deign'd to hear
Thy pipe, and screen'd thee from opprobrious tongues,
Acknowledge thy own Harley, and his name
Inscribe on every bark; the wounded plants
Will fast increase, faster thy just respect.

Such are our heroes, by their virtues known,
Or skill in peace, and war: of softer mould
The female sex, with sweet attractive airs
Sabdue obdurate hearts. The travellers oft,
That view their matchless forms with transient
glance,

Catch sudden love, and sigh for nymphs unknown,
Smit with the magic of their eyes: nor hath
The dædal hand of Nature only pour'd
Her gifts of outward grace; their innocence
Unfeign'd, and 'virtue most engaging, free
From pride, or artifice, long joys afford
To th' honest nuptial bed, and in the wane
Of life, rebate the miseries of age.

4 Dr. Aldrich, dean of Christ Church.

And is there found a wretch so base of mind,
That woman's powerful beauty dares condemn,
Exactest work of Heaven? He ill deserves
Or love, or pity; friendless let him see
Uneasy, tedious day, despis'd, forlorn,
As stain of human race: but may the man,
That cheerfully recounts the female's praise,
Find equal love, and love's untainted sweets
Enjoy with honour! O, ye gods! might I
Elect my fate, my happiest choice should be
A fair and modest virgin, that invites
With aspect chaste, forbidding loose desire,
Tenderly smiling; in whose heavenly eye
Sits purest love enthron'd: but if the stars
Malignant these my better hopes oppose,
May I, at least, the sacred pleasures know
Of strictest amity; nor ever want

A friend, with whom I mutually may share
Gladness and anguish, by kind intercourse
Of speech and offices. May in my mind,
Indelible a grateful sense remain

Of favours undeserv'd!-0 thou! from whom
Gladly both rich and low seek aid; most wise
Interpreter of right, whose gracious voice
Breathes equity, and curbs too rigid law
With mild, impartial reason; what returns
Of thanks are due to thy beneficence
Freely vouchsaf'd, when to the gates of Death
I tended prone? if thy indulgent care
Had not preven'd, among unbody'd shades

I now had wander'd; and these empty thoughts
Of apples perish'd; but, uprais'd by thee,
I tune my pipe afresh, each night and day,
Thy unexampled goodness to extol
Desirous; but nor night, nor day, suffice
For that great task; the highly-honour'd name
Of Trevor must employ my willing thoughts
Incessant, dwell for ever on my tongue.
Let me be grateful; but let far from me
Be fawning cringe, and false dissembling look,
And servile flattery, that harbours oft

Some

In courts and gilded roofs. Some loose the bands
Of ancient friendship, cancel Nature's laws
For pageantry, and tawdry gewgaws.
Renounce their sires, oppose paternal right
For rule and power; and others realms invade
With specious shows of love. This traitorous wretch
Betrays his sovereign. Others, destitute
Of real zeal, to every altar bend
By lucre sway'd, and act the basest things
To be styl'd honourable: the honest man,
Simple of heart, prefers inglorious want
To ill-got wealth; rather from door to door,
A jocund pilgrim, though distress'd, he 'll rove,
Than break his plighted faith; nor fear, nor hope,
Will shock his stedfast soul; rather debarr'd
Each common privilege, cut off from hopes
Of meanest gain, of present goods despoil'd,
He'll bear the marks of infamy contemn'd,
Unpity'd; yet his mind, of evil pure,
Supports him, and intention free from fraud.
If no retinue with observant eyes
Attend him, if he can't with purple stain
Of cumbrous vestments, labor'd o'er with gold,
Dazzle the crowd, and set them all agape;
Yet clad in homely weeds, from Envy's darts
Remote he lives, nor knows the nightly pangs
Of conscience, nor with spectres' grisly forms,
Demons, and injur'd souls, at close of day
Annoy'd, sad interrupted slumbers finds;

But (as a child, whose inexperienc'd age
Nor evil purpose fears, nor knows) enjoys
Night's sweet refreshment, humid sleep sincere.
When Chanticleer, with clarion shrill, recalls
The tardy day, he to his labours hies
Gladsome, intent on somewhat that may ease
Unhealthy mortals, and with curious search
Examines all the properties of herbs,
Fossils, and minerals, that th' embowell'd Earth
Displays, if by his industry he can
Benefit human race: or else his thoughts
Are exercis'd with speculations deep

Of good, and just, and meet, and th' wholesome rules
Of temperance, and aught that may improve
The moral life; not sedulous to rail,

Nor with envenom'd tongue to blast the fame
Of harmless men, or secret whispers spread
'Mong faithful friends, to breed distrust and hate.
Studious of virtue, he no life observes,
Except his own; his own employs his cares,
Large subject! that he labours to refine
Daily, nor of his little stock denies
Fit alms to lazers, merciful and meek.

Thus sacred Virgil liv'd from courtly vice,
And bates of pompous Rome secure; at court,
Still thoughtful of the rural honest life,
And how t' improve his grounds, and how himself:
Best poet! fit exemplar for the tribe
Of Phoebus, uor less fit Mæonides,
Poor eyeless pilgrim! and, if after these,
If after these another I may naine,
Thus tender Spenser liv'd, with mean repast
Content, depress'd by penury, and pin'd
In foreign realm; yet not debas'd his verse
By Fortune's frowns. And had that other bard,
Oh, had but he, that first ennobled song
With holy rapture, like his Abdiel been;
'Mong many faithless, strictly faithful found;
Unpity'd, he should not have wail'd his orbs,
That roll'd in vain to find the piercing ray,
And found no dawn, by dim suffusion veil'd!
But he however, let the Muse abstain,
Nor blast his fame, from whom she learnt to sing
In much inferior strains, groveling beneath
Th' Olympian hill, on plains, and vales intent,
Mean follower. There let her rest a while,
Pleas'd with the fragrant walks, and cool retreat.

BOOK II.

O HARCOURT, whom th' ingenuous love of arts
Has carry'd from thy native soil, beyond
Th' eternal Alpine snows, and now detains
In Italy's waste realms, how long must we
Lament thy absence? whilst in sweet sojourn
Thou view'st the relics of old Rome; or, what
Unrivall'd authors by their presence made
For ever venerable, rural seats,
Tibur, and Tusculum, or Virgil's urn,
Green with immortal bays, which haply thou,
Respecting his great name, lost now approach
With bended knee, and strow with purple flowers;
Unmindful of thy friends, that ill can brook
This long delay. At length, dear youth, return,
Of wit and judgment ripe in blooming years,
And Britain's isle with Latian knowledge grace.
Return, and let thy father's worth excite

5 Milton.

Thirst of pre-eminence; see! how the cause
Of widows, and of orphans, he asserts
With winning rhetoric, and well-argu'd law!
Mark well his footsteps, and, like him, deserve
Thy prince's favour, and thy country's love.
Meanwhile (although the Massic grape delights,
Pregnant of racy juice, and Formian hills
Temper thy cups, yet) wilt not thou reject
Thy native liquors: lo! for thee my mill
Now grinds choice apples, and the British vats
O'erflow with generous Cider; far remote
Accept this labour, nor despise the Muse,
That, passing lands and seas, on thee attends.

Thus far of trees: the pleasing task remains,
To sing of wines, and Autumn's blest increase.
Th' effects of art are shown, yet what avails
'Gainst Heaven? oft, notwithstanding all thy care
To help thy plants, when the small fruitery seems
Exempt from ills, an oriental blast

Disastrous flies, soon as the hind fatigued
Unyokes his team; the tender freight, unskill'd
To bear the hot disease, distemper'd pines
In the year's prime; the deadly plague annoys
The wide enclosure: think not vainly now
To treat thy neighbours with mellifluous cups,
Thus disappointed. If the former years
Exhibit no supplies, alas! thou must
With tasteless water wash thy droughty throat.
A thousand accidents the farmer's hopes
Subvert, or check; uncertain all his toil,
Till lusty Autumn's lukewarm days, allay'd
With gentle colds, insensibly confirm
His ripening labours: Autumn, to the fruits
Earth's various lap produces, vigour gives
Equal, intenerating milky grain,

Berries, and sky-dy'd Plumbs, and what in coat
Rough, or soft rin'd, or bearded husk, or shell;
Fat Olives, and Pistacio's fragrant nut,
And the Pine's tasteful apple: Autumn paints
Ausonian hills with Grapes; whilst English plains
Blush with pomaceous harvests, breathing sweets.
O let me now, when the kind early dew
Unlocks th' embosom'd odours, walk among
The well-rang'd files of trees, whose full-ag'd store
Diffuse ambrosial steams, than Myrrh, or Nard,
More grateful, or perfuming flowery Bean!
Soft whispering airs, and the lark's mattin song
Then woo to musing, and becalm the mind
Perplex'd with irksome thoughts. Thrice happy time,
Best portion of the various year, in which
Nature rejoiceth, smiling on her works
Lovely, to full perfection wrought! but ah!
Short are our joys, and neighbouring griefs disturb
Our pleasant hours! inclement Winter dwells
Contiguous; forthwith frosty blasts deface

The blithsome year: trees of their shrivell'd fruits
Are widow'd, dreary storms o'er all prevail !
Now, now 's the time, ere hasty suns forbid
To work, disburthen thou thy sapless wood
Of its rich progeny; the turgid fruit
Abounds with mellow liquor: now exhort
Thy hinds to exercise the pointed steel
On the hard rock, and give a wheely form
To the expected grinder: now prepare
Materials for thy mill; a sturdy post
Cylindric, to support the grinder's weight
Excessive; and a flexile sallow, entrench'd,
Rounding, capacious of the juicy hord.
Nor must thou not be mindful of thy press,
Long ere the vintage; but with timely care

The clouds dropt fatness, in the middle sky
The dew suspended staid, and left unmoist
His execrable glebe: recording this,
Be just, and wise, and tremble to transgress.

Shave the goat's shaggy beard, lest thou too late
In vain should'st seek a strainer to dispart
The husky, terrene dregs, from purer Must.
Be cautious next a proper steed to find,
Whose prime is past; the vigorous horse disdains
Such servile labours, or, if forc'd, forgets
His past achievements, and victorious palms.
Blind Bayard rather, worn with work, and years,
Shall roll th' unwieldy stone; with sober pace
He'll tread the circling path till dewy eve,
From early day-spring, pleas'd to find his age
Declining not unuseful to his lord.

Some, when the press, by utmost vigour screw'd,
Has drain'd the pulpous mass, regale their swine
With the dry refuse; thou, more wise, shall steep
Thy husks in water, and again employ
The ponderous engine. Water will imbibe
The small remains of spirit, and acquire
A vinous flavour; this the peasants blithe
Will quaff, and whistle, as thy tinkling team
They drive, and sing of Fusca's radiant eyes,
Pleas'd with the medley draught. Nor shalt thou now
Reject the apple-cheese, though quite exhaust;
Even now 'twill cherish, and improve the roots
Of sickly plants; new vigour hence convey'd
Will yield an harvest of unusual growth.
Such profit springs from husks discreetly us'd!
The tender apples, from their parents rent
By stormy shocks, must not neglected lie,
The prey of worms: a frugal man I knew,
Rich in one barren acre, which, subdued
By endless culture, with sufficient Must
His casks replenish'd yearly: he no more
Desir'd, nor wanted; diligent to learn
The various seasons, and by skill repel
Invading pests, successful in his cares,
Till the damp Libyan wind, with tempests arm'd
Outrageous, bluster'd horrible amidst

His Cider-grove: o'erturn'd by furious blasts,
The sightly ranks fall prostrate, and around
Their fruitage scatter'd, from the genial boughs
Stript immature; yet did he not repine,
Nor curse his stars; but prudent, his fallen heaps
Collecting, cherish'd with the tepid wreaths
Of tedded grass, and the Sun's mellowing beams
Rivall'd with artful heats, and thence procur'd
A costly liquor, by improving time,
Equal'd with what the happiest vintage bears,
But this I warn thee, and shall always warn,
No heterogeneous mixtures use, as some
With wat'ry turnips have debas'd their wines,
Too frugal; nor let the crude humours dance
In heated brass, steaming with fire intense;
Although Devonia much commends the use
Of strengthening Vulcan: with their native strength
Thy wines sufficient, other aid refuse;
And, when th' allotted orb of time's complete,
Are more commended than the labour'd drinks,

Nor let thy avarice tempt thee to withdraw
The priest's appointed share; with cheerful heart
The tenth of thy increase bestow, and own
Heaven's bounteous goodness, that will sure repay
Thy grateful duty: this neglected, fear
Signal avengeance, such as overtook
A miser, that unjustly once withheld
The clergy's due: relying on himself,
His fields he tended, with successless care,
Early and late, when or unwish'd-for rain
Descended, or unseasonable frosts

Curb'd his increasing hopes; or, when around

Learn now the promise of the coming year, To know, that by no flattering signs abus'd, Thou wisely may'st provide: the various Moon Prophetic, and attendant stars, explain Each rising dawn; ere icy crusts surmount The current stream, the heavenly orbs serene Twinkle with trembling rays, and Cynthia glows With light unsully'd: now the fowler, warn'd By these good omens, with swift early steps Treads the crimp earth, ranging through fields and Offensive to the birds; sulphureous death [glades Checks their mid flight, and heedless while they strain Their tuneful throats, the towering, heavy lead, O'ertakes their speed; they leave their little lives Above the clouds, precipitant to Earth.

The woodcocks' early visit, and abode
Of long continuance in our temperate clime,
Foretell a liberal harvest; he of times
Intelligent, the harsh Hyperboreau ice
Shuns for our equal winters; when our suns
Cleave the chill'd soil, he backward wings his way
To Scandinavian frozen summers, meet
For his numb'd blood. But nothing profits more
Than frequent snows: O, may'st thou often see
Thy furrows whiten'd by the woolly rain
Nutritious! secret nitre lurks within
The porous wet, quickening the languid glebe.
Sometimes thou shalt with fervent vows implore
A moderate wind; the orchat loves to wave
With winter winds, before the gems exert
Their feeble heads; the loosen'd roots then drink
Large increment, earnest of happy years.
Nor will it nothing profit to observe
The monthly stars, their powerful influence
O'er planted fields, what vegetables reign
Under each sign. On our account has Jove
Indulgent, to all moons some succulent plant
Allotted, that poor helpless man might slack
His present thirst, and matter find for toil.
Now will the Corinths, now the Rasps, supply
Delicious draughts; the Quinces now, or Plumbs,
Or Cherries, or the fair Thisbeian fruit

Are prest to wines; the Britons squeeze the works
Of sedulous bees, and mixing odorous herbs
Prepare balsamic cups, to wheezing lungs
Medicinal, and short-breath'd, ancient sires.
But, if thou 'rt indefatigably bent

To toil, and omnifarious drinks would'st brew;
Besides the orchat, every hedge and bush
Affords assistance; ev'n afflictive Birch,
Curs'd by unletter'd, idle youth, distils
A limpid current from her wounded bark,
Profuse of nursing sap. When solar beams
Parch thirsty human veins, the damask'd meads,
Unforc'd, display ten thousand painted flowers
Useful in potables. Thy little sons
Permit to range the pastures; gladly they
Will mow the Cowslip-posies, faintly sweet,
From whence thou artificial wines shalt drain
Of icy taste, that, in mid fervours, best
Slack craving thirst, and mitigate the day.
Happy Iërne', whose most wholesome air
Poisons envenom'd spiders, and forbids
The baleful toad, and viper, from her shore!

I Ireland.

More happy in her balmy draughts, enrich'd
With miscellaneous spices, and the root,
(For thirst-abating sweetness prais'd) which wide
Extend her fame, and to each drooping heart
Present redress, and lively health convey.

See, how the Belgæ, sedulous and stout,
With bowls of fattening Murn, or blissful cups
Of kernel-relish'd fluids, the fair star
Of early Phosphorus salute, at noon
Jocund with frequent-rising fumes! by use
Instructed, thus to quell their native phlegm
Prevailing, and engender wayward mirth.

What need to treat of distant climes, remov'd
Far from the sloping journey of the year,
Beyond Petsora, and Islandic coasts?
Where ever-during snows, perpetual shades
Of darkness, would congeal their livid blood,
Did not the Arctic tract spontaneous yield
A cheering purple berry, big with wine,
Intensely fervent, which each hour they crave,
Spread round a flaming pile of pines, and oft
They interlard their native drinks with choice
Of strongest Brandy, yet scarce with these aids
Enabled to prevent the sudden rot
Of freezing nose, and quick-decaying feet.
Nor less the sable borderers of Nile,
Nor they who Taprobane manure, nor they,
Whom sunny Bornio bears, are stor'd with streams
Egregious, Rum, and Rice's spirit extract.
For here, expos'd to perpendicular rays,
In vain they covet shades, and Thrascia's gales,
Pining with equinoctial heat, unless
The cordial glass perpetual motion keep,
Quick circuiting; nor dare they close their eyes,
Void of a bulky charger near their lips,
With which, in often interrupted sleep,
Their frying blood compels to irrigate
Their dry-furr'd tongues, else minutely to death
Obnoxious, dismal death, th' effect of drought!

More happy they, born in Columbus' world, Carybbes, and they, whom the Cotton plant With downy-sprouting vests arrays! their woods Bow with prodigious nuts, that give at once Celestial food, and nectar; then, at hand The Lemon, uncorrupt with voyage long, To vinous spirits added (heavenly drink!) They with pneumatic engine ceaseless draw, Intent on laughter; a continual tide Flows from th' exhilarating fount. As, when Against a secret cliff, with sudden shock A ship is dash'd, and leaking drinks the sea, Th' astonish'd mariners aye ply the pump, Nor stay, nor rest, till the wide breach is clos'd: So they (but cheerful) unfatigued, still move The draining sucker, then alone concern'd When the dry bowl forbids their pleasing work. But if to hoarding thou art bent, thy hopes Are frustrate, should'st thou think thy pipes will flow With early limpid wine. The hoarded store, And the harsh draught, must twice endure the Sun's Kind strengthening heat,twiceWinter's purging cold. There are, that a compounded fluid drain From different mixtures, Woodcock, Pippin, Moyle, Rough Eliot, sweet Permain: the blended streams (Each mutually correcting each) create A pleasurable medley, of what taste Hardly distinguish'd; as the showery arch, With listed colours gay, ore, azure, gules, Delights and puzzles the beholder's eye,

That views the wat'ry brede, with thousand shows

Of painture vary'd, yet 's unskill'd to tell Or where one colour rises, or one faints.

Some Ciders have by art, or age, unlearn'd
Their genuine relish, and of sundry vines
Assum'd the flavour; one sort counterfeits
The Spanish product; this, to Gauls has seem'd
The sparkling Nectar of Champaigne; with that,
A German oft has swill'd his throat, and sworn,
Deluded, that imperial Rhine bestow'd

The generous rummer, whilst the owner, pleas'd,
Laughs inly at his guests, thus entertain'd
With foreign vintage from his cider cask.

Soon as thy liquor from the narrow cells
Of close-prest husks is freed, thou must refrain
Thy thirsty soul; let none persuade to broach
Thy thick, unwholesome, undigested cades:
The hoary frosts, and northern blasts, take care
Thy muddy beverage to serenc, and drive
Precipitant the baser, ropy lees.

And now thy wine's transpicuous, purg'd from all
Its earthy gross, yet let it feed a while
On the fat refuse, lest, too soon disjoin'd,
From sprightly, it to sharp or vapid change.
When to convenient vigour it attains,
Suffice it to provide a brazen tube
Inflext; self-taught, and voluntary, flies
The defecated liquor, through the vent
Ascending, then by downward tract convey'd,
Spouts into subject vessels, lovely clear.

As when a noontide sun, with summer beams,
Darts through a cloud, her wat'ry skirts are edg'd
With lucid amber, or undrossy gold:
So, and so richly, the purg'd liquid shines.

Now also, when the colds abate, nor yet
Full summer shines, a dubious season, close
In glass thy purer streams, and let them gain,
From due confinement, spirit, and flavour new.
For this intent, the subtle chymist feeds
Perpetual flames, whose unresisted force,
O'er sand, and ashes, and the stubborn flint
Prevailing, turns into a fusil sea,
That in his furnace bubbles sunny-red:
From hence a glowing drop with hollow'd steel
He takes, and by one efficacious breath
Dilates to a surprising cube, or sphere,
Or oval, and fit receptacles forms
For every liquid, with his plastic lungs,
To human life subservient; by his means
Ciders in metal frail improve: the Moyle,
And tasteful Pippin, in a moon's short year,
Acquire complete perfection: now they smoke
Transparent, sparkling in each drop, delight
Of curious palate, by fair virgins crav'd.
But harsher fluids different lengths of time
Expect: thy flask will slowly mitigate
The Eliot's roughness. Stirom, firmest fruit,
Embottled (long as Priæmian Troy
Withstood the Greeks) endures, ere justly mild.
Soften'd by age, it youthful vigour gains,
Fallacious drink! ye honest men, beware,
Nor trust its smoothness; the third circling glass
Suffices virtue: but may hypocrites,
(That slyly speak one thing, another think,
Hateful as Hell) pleas'd with the relish weak,
Drink on unwarn'd, till by enchanting cups
Infatuate, they their wily thoughts disclose,
And through intemperance grow a while sincere.
The farmer's toil is done; his cades mature
Now call for vent; his lands exhaust permit
T' ind ilge awhile. Now colemn rites he pays

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