POEMS. 



THE INVITATION TO SELBORNE. 



SEE Selborne spreads her boldest beauties round, 

 The varied valley, and the mountain ground, 

 Wildly majestic ! what is all the pride 

 Of flats, with loads of ornament supplied ? 

 Unpleasing, tasteless, impotent expense, 

 Compared with Nature's rude magnificence. 



Arise, my stranger, to these wild scenes haste ; 

 The unfmish'd farm awaits your forming taste : 

 Plan the pavilion, airy, light, and true ; 

 Through the high arch call in the lengthening view ; 

 Expand the forest sloping up the hill ; 

 Swell to a lake the scant, penurious rill ; 

 Extend the vista, raise the castle mound 

 In antique taste with turrets ivy-crown'd ; 

 O'er the gay lawn the flowery shrub dispread, 

 Or with the blending garden mix the mead ; 

 Bid China's pale, fantastic fence, delight ; 

 Or with the mimic statue trap the sight. 



Oft on some evening, sunny, soft, and still, 

 The Muse shall lead thee to the beech-grown hill, 

 To spend in tea the cool, refreshing hour, 

 Where nods in air the pensile, nest-like bower ; * 



* A kind of an arbour on the side of a hill, 



