22 THE ENGLISH GARDEN. 



Peace to his Manes ! let the Nymphs of Seine 

 Cherifh his fame. Thy Poet, Albion, fcorns, 370 



Ev'n for a cold unconfcious element, 

 To forge the fetters he would fcorn to wear. 

 His fong fhall reprobate each effort vile, 

 That aims to force the Genius of the ftream 

 Beyond his native levels this firft law, 375 



That Nature to her world of waters gave, 

 Let Art revere, as does impartial Heaven ; 

 The poize of Juftice -, let her fcorn to prefs, 

 Above that deftin'd line, the balanc'd wave. 



Is there within the circle of thy view 380 



Some fedgy flat, where the late-ripen'd (heaves 

 Stand brown with unbleft mildew ? tis the bed 

 On which an ample lake in chryftal peace 

 Might fleep majeftic. Paufe we yet ; perchance 

 Some midway channel, where the foil declines, 385 



Might there be delv'd, by levels duly led 

 In bold and broken curves : (for water loves 



A wilder 



