Chap. I. ^/ GARDENING, €^(r. 07 



By this time one would have thought the 

 Poet was quite out of Breath 5 but as if di- 

 vinely infpir'd, he renews his Verfe : 



Te [acred Mufes, with whofe Beauty fir^d^ 

 My Soul is ravijl/d, and my Brain infpir^d. 



But tir'd,aftera little farther Flight, feems 

 to be gently finking his lofty Plumes, and ho- 

 vering down to his defir'd Abode, concludes : 



But if my heavy Blood rejlrain the Flight 

 Of my free Soul^ afpiring to the Height 

 Of hature^ and unclouded Fields of Light ^ 

 My next Befire ii, void of Care and Strife^ 

 Jo lead a foft^ fecnre^ inglorious Life 5 

 A Country Cottage^ near a Cryftal Floods 

 A winding Valley^ and a lofty Wood: 

 Some God conduB vie to the facred Shades, 

 Where Bacchanals arefung by Spartan Maids j 

 Or lift me high to Hemus hilly Crown^ 

 Or in the Plains of Tempe lay me down 5 

 Or lead me to fo?ne folitary Place, 

 And cover my Retreat fro?n human Race. 



Dryden. 



I might purfue him yet farther, but muft 

 haften to the farther Profecution of my Hi- 

 ftory. ^ir^zV died at Brundufium, and has left 

 the following Epigram, written with his 

 Qwn Hand, thus Eglilh'd by Mr, Dryden : 



Ifung 



