from. In general, however the poet is not, 

 like the painter, uniform in his admiration of 

 thefe plealing appendages. If at one time 

 he admires them with the painter, and ranks 

 them among the pidlurefque beauties of nature ; 

 at another he lides with the wood-man, and 

 brumes them away. Nay, I have known him 

 conjure up fome mighty agent, as guardian of 

 his woods ; who cries out, 



From Jove I am the Power 



Of this fair wood, and live in oaken bower. 

 I nurfe my faplins tall; and cleanfe their rind 

 From vegetating filth of every kind. 

 And all my plants I fave from nightly ill 

 Of noifome winds, and blafting vapours chill. 



Befides Mr. Lawfon's catalogue of maladies 

 we might enumerate others, which are equally 

 the fources of beauty. The blafted tree has 

 often a fine effed: both in natural, and in arti- 

 ficial landfcape. In fome fcenes it is almoft 

 erTential. When the dreary heath is fpread 

 before the eye, and ideas of wildnefs and 

 defolation are required, what more fuitable 

 accompaniment can be imagined, than the 

 blafted oak, ragged, fcathed, and leaflefs ; 

 mooting it's peeled, white branches athwart 



the 



