1*2S 
TI-IE FIG. 
FICUS CAR1CA. 
fC Close to the gates a spacious garden lies, 
From storms defended and inclement skies; 
Here the blue fig with luscious juice overflows, 
With deeper red the full pomegranate glows } 
Here order’d vines in equal ranks appear, 
And verdant olives flourish all the year. 
The balmy spirit of the western gale 
Eternal breathes on fruits untaught to fail; 
Each dropping pear a following pear supplies, 
On apples, apples, figs on figs arise : 
The same mild season gives the blooms to blow, 
The buds to harden, and the fruits to grow.” 
“God Almighty first planted a garden,” says Lord 
Bacon: “ it is the purest of human pleasures; it is the 
greatest refreshment to the spirits of man.” And in so 
saying he does not speak unadvisedly, or from envy or 
ignorance, for he had tasted, and that not sparingly, all 
the pleasures which station, wealth, and learning can 
