No More Learning

And all that bums the mind.

vn.

He fortified the double gate.

And rarely thither came ;
For, with one spark of these, he straight

All nature could inflame.

VIII*

Till, by vicinity so long,

A nearer way they sought,
And, grown magnetically strong.

Into each other wrought.

IX.

Thus all his fuel did unite

To make one fire high :
None ever burned so hot, so bright :

And, Celia, that am I.



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88 THE POBM8



So we alone the happj rest.
Whilst all the world is poor,

And have within ourselves possessed
All love's and nature's store.



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OF HABVBLL. 89



THE MOWER AGAINST GARDENS.

LuxuBious man, to bring bis vice in use,

Did after bim tbe world seduce,
And from tbe fields tbe flowers and plants allure,

Wbere nature was most plain and pure.
He first inclosed witbin tbe gardens square

A dead and standing pool of air,
And a more luscious eartb from them did knead,

Wbicb stupefied tbem wbile it fed.
Tbe pink grew tben as double as bis mind ;

Tbe nutriment did cbange the kind.
With strange perfumes be did tbe roses taint;

And flowers themselves were taught to paint.
Tbe tulip white did for complexion seek,

And learned to interline its cheek ;
Its union root they tben so high did hold,

That one was for a meadow sold :
Another world was searched through oceans new,

To find tbe marble of Peru,
And yet these rarities might be allowed

To man, that sovereign thing and proud,



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90 THE POEMS'

Had he not dealt between the bark and tree.

Forbidden mixtures there to see.
No plant now knew the stock from which it came ;

He grafts upon the wild the tame,
That the uncertain and adulterate fruit

Might put the palate in dispute.
His green seraglio has its eunuchs too,

Lest any tyrant him outdo,
And in the cherry he does nature vex,

To proci*eate without a sex.
'Tis all enforced, the fountain and the grot,

While the sweet fields do lie forgot,
Where willing nature does to all dispense

A wild and fragrant innocence.
And fauns and fairies do the meadows till

More by their presence than their skill.
Their statues, polished by some ancient hand.

May to adorn the gardens stand,
But, howsoe'er the figures do excel.

The Gods themselves with us do dwell.



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OP MARYELL* 91



* DAMON THE MOWER.

Hark how the Mower Damon sung,
With love of Juliana stung,
While every thing did seem to paint
The scene more fit for his complaint !
Like her fair eyes the day was fair,
But scorching like his amorous care ;
Sharp, like his scythe, his sorrow was,
And withered, like his hopes, the grass.

Oh what unusual heats are here.
Which thus our sun-burned meadows fear !
The grasshopper its pipe gives o'er,
And hamstringed frogs can dance no more,
But in the brook the gi*een frog wades.