278 S Y L V A BOOK iv 



Into your forests shady poplars bring, 



Which from their seed with equal vigour spring. 



Rich groves of ebony let India show ; 



Judaea balsoms which in Gilead flow : 



Persia from trees her silken fleeces comb ; 



Arabia furnish the Sabaean gum ; 



Whose odours sweetness to our temples lend, 



And at the altar with our pray'rs ascend : 



Yet I the groves of France do more admire, 



Which now on meads, and now on hills aspire. 



I not the wood-nymph, nor the Pontick pine 



Esteem, which boasts the splendor of its line ; 



Or those which old Lycaeum did adorn ; 



Or box on the Cytorian mountain born : 



Th' Idaean vale, or Erymanthian grove, 



In me no reverence, no horror move ; 



Since I no trees can find so large, so tall, 



As those which fill the shady woods of Gaul. 



When from the cloven bud young boughs proceed, 



And the mast-bearing trees their leaves do spread ; 



The pestilential air oft vitiates 



The seasons of the year, and this creates 



Whole swarms of vermin, which the leaves assail, 



And on the woods in numerous armies fall. 



Creatures in different shapes together joyn'd, 



The horrid eruc's, palmer-worm design'd 



With its pestif'rous odours to annoy 



Your plants, and their young off-spring to destroy. 



Remember then to take these plagues away, 



Lest they break out in the first show'rs of May. 



From planting new, and lopping aged trees, 

 The prudent ancients bid us never cease : 

 Thus no decay is in our forests known ; 

 But in their honour we preserve our own. 

 Thus in your fields a sudden race will rise, 

 Which in your nurseries will yield supplies ; 

 That may again some drooping grove renew : 

 For trees, like men, have their successions too. 

 Their solid bodies worms and age impair, 

 And the vast oak gives place to his next heir. 

 While such designs employ your vacant hours, 



