tT IN PRAISE OF GARDENS 



How would those learned trees have followed 



you? 

 You would have drawn them, and their poet too. 



But who can blame them now? for, since you're 

 gone, 



They're here the only fair, and shine alone. 

 You did their natural rights invade; 

 Where ever you did walk or sit, 

 The thickest boughs could make no shade, 

 Although the Sun had granted it: 



The fairest flowers could please no more, near 

 you, 



Than painted flowers, set next to them, could do. 



When e'er then you come hither, that shall be 

 The time, which this to others is, to me. 



The little joys which here are now, 



The name of punishments do bear; 



When by their sight they let us know 



How we depriv'd of greater are. 

 'Tis you the best of seasons with you bring ; 

 This is for beasts, and that for men the Spring. 



A. COWLEY. 



[80] 



