But when opprefs'd with weight the womb falls down,

(As fometimes it, when weak, does with its own) With dreadful weapons arm'd, a noisome smell Meets it, and upward quickly does repel :

So when th' Helvetians their own land forfook,
(People which in their neighbours terror strook)
A ftronger foe, their wand'ring to restrain,
To their old quarters beat 'em back again.
Here different reafons different authors fhew,
But none worth speaking of, I'm fure, you know.
What can I add? You, learn'd Prefident! pleafe
To bid me speak; the cafe fays hold your peace :
Yet you I must obey; Heav'n is fo kind
To let us feek that truth we cannot find.
This truth must be i' th' well's dark bottom fought,
Pardon me if I make an heavy draught.

You fee the wond'rous wars and leagues of things From whence the world's harmonious confort fprings;

Or any fmells that nofes e'er attack.
Our purging or aftringent quality
Have proper points of matter where they lie.
With earth, air, water, fire, Heav'n all things bore;
Why do I faintly fpeak? they were before :
For what earth, air, fire, water, now we call,
Are compounds from the firft original:
For---but a fudden fright her fenfes fhock'd,
And stopp'd her speech; fhe heard the gate un-
lock'd;

And Rue from far the gard'ner faw come in,
Trembling, as the an Afpen leaf had been,
(For Rue, a fov'reign Plant to purge the eyes,
Remoteft objects early deferies)

She foftly whifper'd, Hence, make hafte away;
Here's Robert come; make hafte; why do we

ftay?

Day was not broken, but 'twas almost light, And Luna fwiftly roll'd the wheeling night; Nor was the fellow us'd fo foon to rife,

Here many caufes branch themselves around,
But to 'em all one only root is found;

For those which mortals the four elements call,
In the world's fabric are not firft of all;
Treasures in them wife Nature laid, as ftore,
Ready at hand, of things that were before;
Whence the might principles draw for her use,
And mixtures new eternally produce.
Infinite feeds in those small bodies lie
To us, but number'd by the Deity:
Nor is the heat to fire more natural,

Nor coldness more to water's fhare does fall,
Than either bitter, fweet, or white, or black,

His wife in pangs of childbed loudly roar'd,
And gentle Juno's prefent aid implor'd:
But he who Plants that in his garden grew,
Than forty Junos of more value knew,
Came thither Sowbread, all in hafte together,
That he with greater eafe might prove a father.
Soon as they faw the man, ftraight up they got,
With gentle hafte, and stood upon the spot,
When briefly Mugwort, I this Court adjourn;
What we have left we'll do at our return.
Without tumultuous noife away they fled,
And ev'ry Plant crept to her proper bed.

The name of the gardener of the Phyfic-garden in Oxford.

Y iiij

Flora.

Now Mufe! if ever, now look brisk and gay, The Spring's at hand; blithe looks like that difplay:

Ufe all the fchemes and colours now of speech,
Ufe all the flow'rs that poetry enrich;
Its glories all, its blooming beauties, bring,
As may refemble the returning Spring
Let the fame mufic through thy verfe refound,
As in the woods and fhady groves is found:
Let ev'ry line fuch fragrant praife exhale,
As rifes up from fome fweet-felling vale:
Let lights and fhades, as in the woods, appear,
And fhew in painted verfe the feason of the year.
Come then away, for the firft welcome morn
Of the fpruce month of May begins to dawn.
This day, fo tells the poet's facred page,
Bright Chloris did in nuptial bands engage;
This very day the knot was ty'd, and thence
The lovely maid a goddess did commence :
The figns of joy did ev'ry where appear,
On earth, in heav'n, throughout the fea and air;
No wand'ring cloud was feen in all the sky,
And if there were, 'twas of a curious dye.
The air ferene, not an ungentle blast
Ruffled the waters with its rude embrace;
The wind that was, breath'd odours all around,

And only fann'd the ftreams, and only kifs'd the ground.

Of unknown Flow'rs now fuch a num'rous birth
Appear'd, as ever aftonifh'd mother-Earth.
The Lily grew 'midst barren Heath and Sedge,
And the Rofe blufh'd on each unprickly hedge;
The purple Violet and the Daffodil,
The places now of angry nettles fill.
This great and joyful day, on which the knew
What 'twas to be a wife and goddess too,
The grateful Flora yearly did exprefs
In fhews, religious pomp, and gaudine fs,
Long as the thriv'd in Rome, and reign'd among
The other gods, a vast and num'rous throng;

|

But when the facred tribe was forc'd from Rome, Among the reft an exile fhe became, Stripp'd of her plays, and of her fane bereft, Nought of the grandeur of a goddess left : Since then no more ador'd on earth by men, But forc'd o'er flowers to prefide and reign, The best she can fhe ftill keeps up the day, Not as of old, when blefs'd with store the lay; When with a lavish hand her bounties flew ; She 'as not the heart and means to do it now; But in a way fitting her humble state She always did, and ftill does celebrate : And now that the the better may attend The Flow'ry empire under her command, To all the world, at times, fhe does refort, Now in this part, now that, she keeps her court; And fo the feafons of the year require, For here 'tis fpring, perhaps 'tis autumn there. With eafe fhe flies to the remotest shores, And visits in the way a world of Flow'rs: In Zephyr's painted car fhe cuts the air, Pleas'd with the way, her spouse the charioteer. It was the year, (thrice blefs'd that beauteous

Year!)

Which mighty Charles's facred name did bear;

A golden year the heavens brought about

In high proceffion with a joyful fhout;

A year that barr'd up Janus' brazen gates,
That brought home Peace, and laid our monftrous

heats:

A greater gift, blefs'd Albion! thou did'st gain, It brought home godlike Charles, and all his peaceful train,

Compos'd our chaos, cover'd o'er the fears,
And clos'd the bleeding wounds of twenty years.
Nor felt the gown alone the fruits of peace,
But gardens, woods, and all the Flow'ry race.
This year to ev'ry thing fresh honours brought,
Nor 'midit thefe were the learned Arts forgot.
Poor exil'd Fiora, with the fylvan gods,
Came back again to their old lov'd abodes.

I faw her (through a glafs my Mufe vouchsaf’d)
Plac'd on the painted bow fecurely waft;
Triumphantly the rode, and made her courfe
Towards fair Albion's long-forfaken fhores.
That the our goddefs was, to me was plain
From the gay various colours of her train:
She light, renowned Thames! upon thy fhore,
Long time belov'd, and known to her before.
'Twas here the goddess an appointment fet
For all the Flow'rs: accordingly they met ;
Those that are parch'd with heat, or pinch'd with
cold,

Or those which a more temp'rate clime does hold,
Those drunk with dew the fun just rising fees,
Or thofe, when fetting, with a face like his;
All forts that Eaft and Weft can boaft were there,
But not fuch Flow'rs as you fee growing here,
Poor mortal Flow'rs, obnoxious still to harms,
Which quickly die out of their mother's arms,
But those that Plato faw, Ideas nam'd,
Daughters of Jove, for heav'nly extract fam'd:
Ethereal Plants! what glories they disclose,
What excellence the first celeftial Rofe ;
What blush, what fmell! and yet on many scores,
The learned fay, it much refembles ours;
Only 'tis ever fresh, with long life bless'd,
Not in your fading mortal colours drefs'd.
This Rofe the image of the heav'nly mind,
The other growing on our carth we find,
Which is the image of that image, then
No wonder it appears lefs fresh and fine.
These heav'n-born fpecies of the Flow'ry race
Affembled all the wedding-morn to grace.

Phoebus do thou the pencil take, the fame With which thou gild'ft the world's great checker'd frame;

Light's pencil take; try if thou canst difplay
The various fcenes of this refplendent day:
And yet I doubt thy fkill, though all must bow
To thee as god of Plants and Poets too:
I'm fure 'tis much too hard a task for me,
Yet fome I'll touch in pafling, like the bee:
Where the whole garden can't be had, we know
A nofegay may, and that, if sweet, will do.

Now when a part of this triumphant day
In facred pompous rites had pafs'd away,
Rites which no mortal tongue can duly tell,
And which, perhaps, 'tis not lawful to reveal;
At length the fporting goddess thought it beft
(Though fure the humour went beyond a jeft)
A pleafant fort of trial to propose,

[ftood,

And from among the Plants a queen to choose
Which fhould prefide over the Flow'ry race,
Be a vice-goddess, and supply her place:
Each Plant was to appear, and make its plea,
To fee which best deferv'd the dignity.
The fcene arch'd o'er with wreathing branches
Which like a little hollow temple fhew'd;
The fhrubs and branches darting from aloof
Their pretty fragrant fhades, compos'd the roof;
Red and white Jafmine, with the Myrtle-tree,
The favourite of the Cyprian deity;
The Golden Apple-tree with filver bud,"
Both forts of Pipe-tree, with the Sea-dew flood;

345

There was the twining Woodbine to be seen,
And Yellow Hather, Rofes mix'd between.
Each Plant its notes and known distinctions
brought,

With various art the gaudy scene was wrought.
Juft in the nave of this new-modell'd fane,
A throne the judging goddefs did sustain,
Rob'd in a thoufand feveral forts of leaves,
And all the colours which the garden gives,
Which join'd together trim in wondrous wife,
With their deluding figures mock'd your eyes.
A noble checker'd-work, which real feems,
And firmly fet with glift'ring ftones and gems,
It real feem'd, though gods fuch bodies wear
For weight, as Flow'rs upon their down may bear.
The goddefs, feated in majeftic-wife,
With all the pride the wealthy Spring supplies,
Had Ariadne's crown, and fuch a veft
With which the rainbow on bright days is drefs'd;
Before her throne did the officious band
Of Hours, Days, Months, in goodly order ftand:
The Hours upon foft-painted wings were born,
Painted, but fwift, alas! and quickly gone;
The Days with nimble feet advanc'd apace,
And then the Month, each with a different face;
On Cynthia's orb they tend with conftant care,
In monthly courfes whirling round her fphere.
Firft Spring, a rofy-colour'd youngster, stood,
With looks enough to bribe a judging god;
Summer appear'd, rob'd in a yellow gown,
Full ears of ripen'd corn compos'd her crown;
Then Autumn, proud of rich Pomona's ftore,
And Bacchus, too, treading the blushing floor;
Poor half-ftarv'd Winter fhivering in the rear,
The Stoical and fullen part o' th' year:
Yet not by step-dame Nature wholly left
Of every grace is winter time bereft;
Some friends it has in this afflicted ftate,
Some Plants that faith and duty don't forget:
Some Plants the winter-feafon does fupply,
Born purely for delight and luxury,
Which brave the froit and cold, and merit claim,
Though few, indeed, and of a lower frame.
The New Year did him this peculiar grace,
And Janus favouring with his double face,
That he should first be heard, and have the pow'r
To draw forth all his poor and flender store.
Winter obeys, and ranks 'em, best he can,
More trufting to the worth, than number of his
Juft in the front of Winter's fcanty band, [men.
Two lofty Plants, or Flow'ry giants, stand;
Spurge-olive one, th' other a kind of Bay,
Both high, and largely fpreading ev'ry way;
But did they in a milder featon sprout,
Whether they e'er could pafs for Flow'rs, I doubt;
But now they do, and fuch their looks and smell,
The place they hold they feem to merit well.
Next Wolfs'-bane, us'd in ftep-dames' poisoning
Born of the foam of Pluto's porter faid;
A baneful Plant, fpringing in craggy ground,
Thence its hard name, itfelf much harder found;
Brifkly its gilded creft it does difplay,
And boldly ftares i' th' face the god of Day,
Which Cerberus, its fire, durft ne'er affay.

[trade,

Old Rome's most haughty champion I'd defy
With me in honours, titles, names, to vie.
I act fuch wonders, I may fafely fay,
The twelve Herculean labours were mere play.
The fpreading cancer my blefs'd Plant does chafe,
And new-fkins o'er the leper's monstrous face;
The ling'ring quartan fever I oblige
To draw his forces off, and raise the siege :
Swimmings i' th' head that do from vapours come,
I exercife ftraight by my counter fume:
In ev'ry fwelling part, when dropfies reign,
I dry the fen, the ftanding waters drain :
The falling ficknefs, too, to wave the reft,
Though facred that disease by fome confefs'd.
Why in these cures thus trifle I my breath?
Death yields to me, the apoplectic death;
Into each part my Plant new vigour fends,
And quickly makes the foul and body friends.
These are great things, you'll fay, and yet the reft
That follow muft much greater be confefs'd.
I do compofe the mind's diftracted frame,
A gift the gods and I alone can claim ;
Madmen and fools are caft beneath my pow'r;
What to my grandeur can the gods add more?
Who thus can do, the world his province is,
Cæfar can't boaft a larger fway than this.

She spoke; her train with fhouts the area fill'd, Nay, Winter (if you will believe it) fmil'd.

Next the gay Spring draws out his warlike bands,

Which to the scene a grateful fhadow lends.
Homer, though well the Grecian camp he paints,
Would fail, I fear, in muftering up thefe Plants.
Bright Spring what various nations doft thou
boaft?

The Xerxes of a numerous Flow'ry hoft,
Which could (fince Flow'rs without due moisture
Like his, I fancy, drink whole rivers dry. [die)
His Flow'ry troops made the fame stately fhew,
Whose painted arms a dazzling luftre threw.
Then a gay Flow'r, for fhape the Trumpet nam'd,
Blew thrice, and with a strenuous voice proclaim'd,
That all but candidates fhould quit the place,
First, as they went, bowing with awful grace.

And now, the pleasure of the goddess known,
The Herb call'd Ragwort pafs'd before the throne;
A bunchy stalk, and painted bees fhe bore,
With fev'ral foolifh fancies on her Flow'r.
Ragwort the Satyrs and Priapus love,
Venus herself and the fair Judge approve.
Dog's-tooth pass'd next, to Ragwort near ally'd,
A faithful friend to love, and often try'd;
Next Hyacinths, of violet-kind, proceed,
A noble, pow'rful, and a num'rous breed;
They wanted courage, though, to keep the place
Lab'ring, alas! under a late difgrace;
Of noble house themselves they did pretend,
From Ajax' blood directly to defcend;
The caufe in Flora's court of chivalry
Was heard, where they fail'd to make out their
They bore no coat of arms, nor could they fhew
Thofe mournful notes faid from his blood to flow:
The next a-kin, a Flow'r which Greeks of old
From excrements of birds defcended hold,

[plea;

Which Britain, nurse of Plants, a milder clime,
Gentilely calls the Star of Bethlehem;
The Daify next march'd off in modest wise,
Dreading to wait the iffue of the prize,
Tho' the Spring don't a truftier party know,
After, before, and in the fpring they grow,
Quick in the charge,' and in retreating flow;
They dare not venture, though the fens of Art
The name of Binders to 'em do impart ;
They cure all wounds, yet make none, which you
Is the true office of a warlike Plant.
[grant
Next spotted Sanicle and Navelwort,
Tho' both have figns of blood, forfake the court;
Moonwort goes next, borne on its reddifh ftalk,
And after that does gentle Cranebill walk;
They all gave way; 't is natural in a Flow'r
More in its form to truft than worth and pow'r ;
Nay, more than that, the Cornflag quits the field,
Tho' made fword-wife, does to the Tulip yield;
Tho', like fome tyrant, rounded with the fame,
Yet to affected empire waves all claim;
How much this Swordflow'r differs as to harm
From those which we on mortal anvils form!
Nature on this an unguent has bestow'd,
Which when our's make it iffue ftops the blood.
Next you might fee the gaudy Columbine,
Call'd fometimes Lion's-mouth, defert the scene,
Though of try'd courage and of high renown
In other things, curing difeafes known;
The Seagull Flow'r exprefs'd an equal fear,
The tigers more and prettier fpots don't bear;
Thefe beauty-fpots fhe ought to prize like gold,
Citron held her's at dearer rates of old :
The Perfian Lily, of a ruddy hue,
And next the Lily of the Vale, withdrew;
Lilies o' th' Vale fuch looks and fmell retain,
They're fit to furnish snuff for gods and men ;
Nor a plant kinder to the brain does live;
A glafs of wine does lefs refreshment give.
Next Periwinkle, or the Lady's-bow'r,
Weakly, and halting, crept along the floor;
All kinds of Crowfoot pafs'd, and bow'd their
head,

The worst ran wild, the beft in gardens bred;
Daylily next, the root by Hefiod lov'd,
Although not for the chiefeft dish approv'd;
Then came a flow'r of a far diff'ring look,
Which on it thy lov'd name, Adonis! took;
But Celandine, thy genuine offspring ftyl'd,
They tell us at the proud ufurper fmil'd;
Stockgilly flow'r the year's companion is,
Which the fun fcarce in all his rounds does mifs,
Officious Plant! which ev'ry month can bring,
But rather would be reckon'd to the spring;
This pafs'd along with a becoming mien,
And in her train the Wallflow'r would be feen :
The conftant Marigold next these went out,
And Lady's-flipper, fit for Flora's foot; [peep,
Then Goat's-beard, which each morn abroad does
But fhuts its Flow'r at noon, and goes to fleep;
Then Oxeye did its rolling eyeball fpread,
Such as Jove's wife and fifter had, they faid;
Next Viper-grafs, full of a milky juice,
Good against poifon, which curs'd step-dames use ;