Grainger.

And many a night-shall feed thy cracklings mills
With richest offerings : while thy far seen flames,
Bursting thro' many a chimney, bright emblaze
The Aethiop.brow of night. And see, they pour
(Ere phosphor his pale circlet yet withdraws,
- What time grey dawn stands tip-toe on the hill,)
O'er the rich Cane-grove: Muse, their labour fing.

Some bending, of their fapless burden eafe
The yellow ointed canes (whole height exceeds
A mounted trooper, and whose clammy round
Measures two inches full;) and near the root
Lop the item off which quivers in their hand
With fond impatience: soon it's branchy fpires,
(Food to thy cattle) it resigns; and soon
It's tender prickly tops, with eyes thick set,
To load with future crops thy long- hoed land.
These with their green, their pliant branchese

bound,
(For not a part of this amazing plant,
But serves some useful purpose) charge the young:
Not laziness from it's leafy pallet crawls,
To join the favoured gang. What of the Cane
Remains, and much the largest part remains,
Cut into junks a yard in length, and tied
In small light bundles; load the broad-wheeld

wane,
The mules crook-harnest, and the sturdier crew,
With sweet abundance. As on Lincoln-plains
(Ye plains of Lincoln found your Dyer's praise!)
When the lav'd snow - white flocks are numerous

penn'd;
The senior swains, with Charpen'd shears, cut off
The fleecy vestment; others stir the tar;
And some impress, upon their captives sides,
Their master's cypher; while the infant throng
Strive by the horns to hold the struggling ram,
Proud of their prowess. Nor meanwhile the jest :
Light-bandied round, but innocent of ill;
Nor choral song are wanting; eccho rings,

=;

Grainger., Nor need the driver, Aethiop authoriz'd,

Thence more inhuman, crack his horrid whip;
From such dire sounds the indignant Muse averts
Her virgin-ear, where mufick loves to dwell:
'Tis malice now, 'tis wantonness of power
To lash the laughing, labouring, singing throng.

What cannot song? all nature feels its power:
The hind's blithe whistle, as thro' stubborn foils
He drives the shining share; more than the goad,
His tardy steers impells. --- The Mufe hath seen,
When health danc'd frolic in her youthful veins
And vacant gambols wing d the laughing hours;
The Mule hath seen on Annan's pastoral hills.

Of theft and Ilaughter erst the fell retreat,
. But now the shepherds best- beloved walk.

Hath feen the shepherd, with his sylvan pipe,
Lead on his flock o'er crags, thro' bogs, and

streams,
A tedious journey; yet not weary they,
Drawn by the enchantment of his artless fong.
What cannot musick! When brown Ceres asks
The reaper's fickle; what like magic found,
Puff'a from fonorous bellows by the squeeze
Of tuneful artist, can the rage difarm
Of the swart dog-star, and make harvest light?

1

Mason.

T:

Eben so sehr, als fich die englische Nation in den neus ern Zeiten durch den edelsten und grdßten Geschmack in der Gartenkunft auszeichnet, unterscheidet fie fich auch durch den vorzüglichen Werth mancher ihrer prosaischen und poes tischen Schriften über diese Kunst. Unter den lestern ift das aus vier Büchern bestehende Gedicht, The English Gara den, von dem noch lebenden, auch in andern Gattungen sehr glücklichen Dichter, William Miason, M. A. Nach der neuesten vollständigern Ausgabe, mit dem ausführlichen Scommentar und Anmerkungen von Dr. Burgh, hat es Hr. Benzler im ersten Hande seiner Poetical Library abdrucken lassen, und es wird hier daher an nachstehender kurzen Pros be genug reyn. Das erste Buch enthält die allgemeinen Grundsåße der Gartenkunft, welche mit den Regeln der Schuheit in der Landidaftemablerei die n&mlichen find, mos bei zugleich das Zwecklose der franzdfischen und niederländis fchen Manier im Gartenbau gezeigt wird. Im zweiten Bu: che wird der Hauptgegenstand praktischer behandelt, und die Vertheilung des Plants zu einein reizenden Garten, in englis schen Geschmack, einzeln gergliedert; den Schluß dieses Huchs macht die, hier initgetheilte, aus dem Curtius ber kannte Geschichte des sidonischen Königs Abdolonimus. Das dritte Buch betrifft die Berschånerung der Gärten durch Waffer und Gehålz; und das vierte die künstlichen Verzierungen von architektonischer, und andrer, zum Theil fehlerhafter, Art. Auch hier ist eine , ziemlich lange, růhrende Erzählung eins gewebt. Hei aller Anerkennung der mannid)faltigen Schons heiten dieses Gedichts, wünschten die englisdhen Kunstrich ter doch einflimmig, daß der Verf. lieber den Reim, als die reimlosen Jamben, oder blankverse, gewählt haben möchte; und seine Erklärung war ihnen nicht ganz befriedigend, daß ihm diese freiere Bersart für einen Gegenstand, der selbst so viel Freiheit und Mannichfaltigkeit fodert, und für Schilderung zwangloser Natur, die schicklichste gedünft babe.

Pride of the year, purpureal spring! attend
And in the cheek of these sweet innocents
Behold your beauties picturd, as the cloud,
That weeps its moment from thy fapphire heav'n
They frown with causeless forrow; as the beam
Gilding that cloud, with causeless mirth they

smile
Stay, pitying Time! prolong their venal bliss.
Alas! ere we can note it in our song,
Comes manhood's feverish summer, chilld full

foon
By cold autumnal care, till wintry age
Sinks in the frore severity of death.

Ah! who, when such life's momentary

dream,
Would mix in hireling lenates, strenuous there
To crush the venal Hydra, whofc fell crests
Rife with recruited venom from the wound!
Who, for so vain a conflict, would forego
Thy sylvan haunts, celestial folitude!
Where self-improvement, crown'd with self-con-

tent,
Await to bless thy votary? Nurtur'd thus.
In tranquil groves, lift'ning to Nature's voice,
That preach'd from whispering trees, and babbling

brooks
A leffon feldom learnt in Realon's fchool,
The wise Sidonian liv'd: and, tho' the pest
Of lawless tyranny around him rag'd;
Tho' Strato, great alone in Perfia's gold.
Uncalld, unhallow'd by the people's choice,
Usurp'd the throne of his brave ancestors,
Yet was his foul all peace; a garden's care
His only thought, its charms his only pride.

But

But now the conquering arms of Macedon
Had humbled Persia. Now Phoenicia's realın
Receives the son of Ammon; at whose frown
Her tributary kings, or quit their thrones.
Or at his smile retain; and Sidon, now
Freed from her tyrant, points the Vi&tor's step
To where her rightful fou'reign, doubly dear
By birth and virtue, prun'd his garden grove.
'Twas at that early hour,, when now the sun
Behind majestic Lebanon's dark veil
Hid his ascending splendor; yet thro'each
Her cedar-vested fides, his flaunting beams
Shot to the strand, and purpled all the main,
Where Commerce faw her Sidon's freighted wealth,
With languid streamers, and with folded fails;
Float in a lake of gold. The wind was hul hd,
And to the beach, each flowly-lifted wave,
Creeping with silver curl just kist the shore,
And slept in silence. At this tranquil hour
Did Sidon's fenate, and the Grecian host,
Led by the conqueror of the world, approach

,
The secret glade that veil'd the man of toil.

1

DA

Now near the mountain's foot the chief ar

rir'd
Where, round that glade, a pointed aloe screen,
Entwin'd with myrtle, met intangied brakes
That-bar'd all entrance, save at one low gate
Whofe time disjointed arch with ivy chain'd
Bad stoop the warrior train. A pathway brown
Led thro' the pafs, meeting a fretful brook,
And wandering near its channel, while it leapt
O'er many a rocky fragment, where rude Art
Had eas'd perchange, but not prescrib’d its way.

Clofe was the vale and shady; yet ere long
Its forest fides retiring, left a lawn
Of ample circuit, where the widening stream
Now o’er its pebbled channel nimbly tript
In many a lucid maze. From the flower'd verge

OE