Ibotace Malpote 



Flow'rs worthy of Paradise, which not nice art 

 In beds and curious knots, but nature boon 

 Pour'd forth profuse on hill and dale and plain, 

 Both where the morning sun first warmly smote 

 The open field, and where the unpierced shade 

 Imbrown'd the moontide bow'rs. Thus was this place 

 A happy rural seat of various view" 



Read this transporting description, paint to 

 your mind the scenes that follow, contrast them 

 with the savage but respectable terror with 

 which the poet guards the bounds of his para- 

 dise, fenced 



" with the champain head 

 Of a steep wilderness, whose hairy sides 

 With thicket overgrown, grotesque and wild, 

 Access denied ; and overhead upgrew 

 Insuperable height of Idftiest shade, 

 Cedar, and pine, and fir, and branching palm, 

 A sylvan scene, and as the ranks ascend, 

 Shade above shade, a woody theatre 

 Of stateliest view," 



and then recollect that the author of this 

 sublime vision had never seen a glimpse of any 

 thing like what he imagined, that his favorite 

 ancients had dropped not a hint of such divine 

 scenery, and that the conceits in Italian gardens, 

 and Theobald's, and Nonsuch were the brightest 

 originals that his memory could furnish. His 

 intellectual eye saw a nobler plan, so little did 



