THE ENGLISH GARDEN. 21 



While, rufhing thro* their branches, rifted cliffs 



Dart their white heads, and glitter thro' the gloom* 



More happy ftill, if one fuperior rock 



Bear on its brow the miver'd fragment huge 385 



Of fome old Norman fortrefs- ; happier far, 



Ah, then mofl happy, if thy vale below 



Warn, with the chryftal coolnefs of its rills,, 



Some mouldring abbey's ivy- veiled walk 



O how unlike the fcene my fancy forms, 390 



Did Folly, heretofore, with Wealth confpire 

 To plan that formal, dull, disjointed fcene, 

 Which once was call'd a Garden. Britain ftill 

 Bears on her breaft full many a hideous wound 

 Given by the cruel pair, when, borrowing aid 395 



From geometric fkill, they vainly flrove 

 By line, by plummet, and unfeeling fheers, 

 To form * with verdure what the builder form'd 



With 



* Altho' this feems to be the principle upon which this falfe tafte was founded, 

 yet the error was detected by one of our firft writers upon architecture. I fhall 



tranfcribe 



