A GARDEN'S CHIEF GRACE 41 



He, therefore, who would see his flow'rs dispos'd 



Sightly and in just order, ere he gives 



The beds the trusted treasure of their seeds, 



Forecasts the future whole ; that, when the scene 



Shall break into its preconceiv'd display, 



Each for itself, and all as with one voice 



Conspiring, may attest his bright design. 



Nor even then, dismissing as performed 



His pleasant work, may he suppose it clone. 



Few self-supported flow'rs endure the wind 



Uninjur'd, but expect the upholding aid 



Of the smooth-shaven prop, and neatly tied, 



Are wedded thus, like beauty to old age, 



For int'rest sake, the living to the dead. 



Some clothe the soil that feeds them, far diffus'd 



And lowly creeping, modest and yet fair, 



Like virtue, thriving most where little seen : 



Some more aspiring catch the neighbour shrub 



With clasping tendrils, and invest his branch, 



Else unadorn'd, with many a gay festoon 



And fragrant chaplet, recompensing well 



The strength they borrow with the grace they 



lend. 



All hate the rank society of weeds, 

 Noisome, and ever greedy to exhaust 

 Th' impov'rish'd earth ; an overbearing race, 

 That, like the multitude made faction mad, 

 Disturb good order, and degrade true worth. 



WILLIAM COWPEE. 



