IN PRAISE OF GARDENS 



Thus blest, I draw a picture of that bliss; 

 Hopeless indeed that dissipated minds, 

 And profligate abusers of a world 

 Created fair so much in vain for them, 

 Should seek the guiltless joys that I describe, 

 Allured by my report: but sure no less, 

 That self-condemned they must neglect the prize, 

 And what they will not taste must yet approve. 



What we admire we praise, and when we praise, 

 Advance it into notice, that its worth 

 Acknowledged, others may admire it too. 

 I therefore recommend, though at the risk 

 Of popular disgust, yet boldly still, 

 The cause of grief, and sacred truth 

 And virtue, and those scenes which God ordained 

 Should best secure them, and promote them most ; 

 Scenes that I love, and with regret perceive 

 Forsaken, or through folly not enjoyed. 

 Pure is the nymph, though liberal of her smiles, 

 And chaste, though unconfined, whom I extol. 

 Not as the prince in Shushan, when he called, 

 Vainglorious of her charms, his Vashti forth, 

 To grace the full pavillion. His design 

 Was but to boast his own peculiar good, 



