AN ENGLISH GARDEN 



BY SIR WILLIAM MASON (1772) 



But swift, with willing aid, her glittering green 

 Shall England's Laurel bring ; swift shall she spread 

 Her broad-leafed shade, and float it fair, and wide, 

 Proud to be called an inmate of the soil. . . . 

 Nor are the plants which England calls her own 

 Few, or unlovely, that, with Laurel joined, 

 And kindred foliage of perennial green, 

 Will form a close-knit curtain. Shrubs there are 

 Of bolder growth, that, at the Spring's first call, 

 Burst forth in blossomed fragrance. Lilacs robed 

 In snow-white innocence or purple pride, 

 The sweet Syringa, yielding but in scent 

 To the rich Orange, or the Woodbine wild 

 That loves to hang on barren boughs remote 

 Her wreaths of flowery perfume. These beside 

 Myriads, that here the Muse neglects to name, 

 Will add a vernal lustre to the veil. 



