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 odors? or the fleece
Bætic, or finest Tarentine, compare
With Lemster's silken wool? 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' vigor 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 hoary vigor, 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,*

Where Aldricht 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

Shalt grace this isle, and rise to Burleigh's fame.

Hail, high-born peer! and thou, great nurse of arts, And men, 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 deriv'd From royal ancestry, of kingly rights Faithful assertors, in him centering meet Their glorious virtues, high desert from pride Disjoin'd, unshaken honor, and contempt Of strong allurements. O illustrious prince!

• Oxford.

t Dr. Aldrich, dean of Christ Church.

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 Subdue 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.

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 honor! 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 favors 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 unbodied 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-honor'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 harbors 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 honorable: 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,
Unpitied; 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 labors 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 labors 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, nor less fit Mæonides,
Poor eyeless pilgrim! and, if after these,
If after these another I may name,
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;
Unpitied, he should not have wail'd his orbs,
That roll'd in vain to find the piercing ray,
And found no dawn, by dim diffusion veil'd!
But he-however, let the Muse abstain,

Nor blast his fame, from whom she learnt to sing
In much inferior strains, grovelling beneath
Th' Olympian hill, on plains, and vales intent,
Mean follower. There let her rest awhile,
Pleas'd with the fragrant walks, and cool retreat

BOOK II.

O HARCOURT, whom th' ingenuous love of arts
Has carried 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, dost 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
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 favor, 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 labor, 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 fatigu'd 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 inclosure: think not vainly now To treat thy neighbors with mellifluous cups, Thus disappointed. If the former years Exhibit no supplies, alas! thou must With tasteless water wash thy drouthy throat.

* Milton.

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 labors: Autumn, to the fruits
Earth's various lap produces, vigor gives
Equal, intenerating milky grain,

Berries, and sky-dy'd Plums, 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 odors, 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 matin song
Then woo to musing, and becalm the mind
Perplex'd with irksome thoughts. Thrice-happy time,
Best portion of the various year, which
Nature rejoiceth, smiling on her works
Lovely, to full perfection wrought! but ah!
Short are our joys, and neighboring griefs disturb
Our pleasant hours! inclement Winter dwells
Contiguous; forthwith frosty blasts deface
The blithesome year: trees of their shrivel'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, intrench'd,
Rounding, capacious of the juicy hoard.
Nor must thou not be mindful of thy press,
Long ere the vintage; but with timely care
Shave the goat's shaggy beard, lest thou too late
In vain shouldst 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 labors, 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 vigor screw'd, Has drain'd the pulpous mass, regale their swine With the dry refuse; thou, more wise, shalt steep Thy husks in water, and again employ The ponderous engine. Water will imbibe The small remains of spirit, and acquire A vinous flavor; 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 vigor 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,
Equall'd with what the happiest vintage bears.

But this I warn thee, and shall always warn,
No heterogeneous mixtures use, a some
With wat'ry turnips have debas'd their wines,
Too frugal; nor let the crude humors dance
In heated brass, steaming with fire intense;
Although Devonia much commends the use
Of strength'ning 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 labor'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 vengeance, 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 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.

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 unsullied: now the fowler, warn'd By these good omens, with swift early steps [glades Treads the crimp earth, ranging through fields and Offensive to the birds; sulphureous death

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 woodcock's early visit, and abode Of long continuance in our temperate clime, Foretell a liberal harvest; he of times Intelligent, the harsh Hyperborean 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 Plums,
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 wouldst 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, Unfore'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 fervors, best Slack craving thirst, and mitigate the day.

Happy lerne,* whose most wholesome air Poisons envenom'd spiders, and forbids The baleful toad, and viper, from her shore! 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 Mum, 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

* Ireland.

Egregious, Rum, and Rice's spirit extract.
For here, expos'd to perpendicular rays,
In vain they covet shades, and Thracia'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 the 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, shouldst 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, twice Winter'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 colors gay, ore, azure, gules, Delights and puzzles the beholder's eye, That views the wat'ry brede, with thousand shows Of painture varied, yet's unskill'd to tell Or where one color rises, or one faints.

Some Ciders have by art, or age, unlearn'd
Their genuine relish, and of sundry vines
Assum'd the flavor; one sort counterfeits
The Spanish product; this, to Gauls has seem'd
The sparkling Nectar of Champagne; 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 serene, and drive
Precipitant the baser, ropy lees.

And now thy wine's transpicuous, purg'd from all
Its earthly gross, yet let it feed awhile
On the fat refuse, lest, too soon disjoin'd,
From sprightly, it to sharp or vapid change.
When to convenient vigor 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 flavor 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 vigor 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 awhile sincere. The farmer's toil is done; his cades mature Now call for vent: his lands exhaust permit T indulge awhile. Now solemn rites he pays To Bacchus, author of heart-cheering mirth. His honest friends, at thirsty hour of dusk, Come uninvited; he with bounteous hand Imparts his smoking vintage, sweet reward Of his own industry; the well-fraught bowl Circles incessant, whilst the humble cell With quavering laugh and rural jests resounds. Ease, and content, and undissembled love, Shine in each face; the thoughts of labor past Increase their joy: as, from retentive cage When sullen Philomel escapes, her notes She varies, and of past imprisonment Sweetly complains; her liberty retriev'd Cheers her sad soul, improves her pleasing song. Gladsome they quaff, yet not exceed the bounds Of healthy temperance, nor encroach on night, Season of rest, but well bedew'd repair Each to his home, with unsupplanted feet. Ere Heaven's emblazon'd by the rosy dawn, Domestic cares awake them; brisk they rise, Refresh'd, and lively with the joys that flow From amicable talk, and moderate cups Sweetly interchang'd. The pining lover finds Present redress, and long oblivion drinks Of coy Lucinda. Give the debtor wine; His joys are short, and few; yet when he drinks, His dread retires, the flowing glasses add

Courage and mirth: magnificent in thought,
Imaginary riches he enjoys,

And in the gaol expatiates unconfin'd.
Nor can the poet Bacchus' praise indite,
Debarr'd his grape: the Muses still require
Humid regalement, nor will aught avail
Imploring Phoebus, with unmoisten'd lips.
Thus to the generous bottle all incline,
By parching thirst allur'd: with vehement suns
When dusty Summer bakes the crumbling clods,
How pleasant is 't, beneath the twisted arch
Of a retreating bower, in mid-day's reign
To ply the sweet carouse, remote from noise,
Secur'd of feverish heats! When th' aged year
Inclines, and Boreas' spirit blusters frore,
Beware th' inclement Heavens; now let thy hearth
Crackle with juiceless boughs; thy lingering blood
Now instigate with th' apple's powerful streams.
Perpetual showers, and stormy gusts, confine
The willing plowman, and December warns
To annual jollities; now sportive youth
Carol incondite rhymes, with suiting notes,
| And quaver unharmonious; sturdy swains
In clean array for rustic dance prepare,
Mixt with the buxom damsels; hand in hand
They frisk and bound, and various mazes weave,
Shaking their brawny limbs, with uncouth mien,
Transported, and sometimes an oblique leer,
Dart on their loves, sometimes an hasty kiss
Steal from unwary lasses; they with scorn,
And neck reclin'd, resent the ravish'd bliss.
Meanwhile blind British bards with volant touch
Traverse loquacious strings, whose solemn notes
Provoke to harmless revels; these among,
A subtle artist stands, with wondrous bag
That bears imprison'd winds (of gentler sort
Than those, which erst Laertes' son inclos'd.)
Peaceful they sleep; but let the tuneful squeeze
Of laboring elbow rouse them, out they fly
Melodious, and with sprightly accents charm.
'Midst these disports, forget they not to drench
Themselves with bellying goblets; nor, when Spring
Returns, can they refuse to usher in

The fresh-born year with loud acclaim, and store
Of jovial draughts, now, when the sappy boughs
Attire themselves with blooms, sweet rudiments
Of future harvest. When the Gnossian crown
Leads on expected autumn, and the trees
Discharge their mellow burthens, let them thank
Boon Nature, that thus annually supplies
Their vaults, and with her former liquid gifts
Exhilarates their languid minds, within
The golden mean confin'd: beyond there's nought
Of health, or pleasure. Therefore, when thy heart
Dilates with fervent joys, and eager soul
Prompts to pursue the sparkling glass, be sure
"Tis time to shun it; if thou wilt prolong
Dire compotation, forthwith Reason quits
Her empire to confusion, and misrule,

And vain debates; then twenty tongues at once
Conspire in senseless jargon, nought is heard
But din, and various clamor, and mad rant:
Distrust, and jealousy, to these succeed,
And anger-kindling taunt, the certain bane
Of well-knit fellowship. Now horrid frays
Commence, the brimming glasses now are hurl'd
With dire intent; bottles with bottles clash
In rude encounter, round their temples fly
The sharp-edg'd fragments, down their batter'd
cheeks