XXIX. And here perchance, bending his beetled brow, Some angry Critic fcornful fhall exclaim: • What GOTHIC Wight is this, who dares avow To fcorn of BRITISH Arts the fairest name, Who wishes to recall with Idiot aim • What Elegance has banish'd from our fhore, • Would blaft the rural wreath of ALBION's fame The ancient forms of Folly to restore, And bid the fpruce Parterre ufurp her feats once ⚫ more ?' XXX. Far be fuch blame! no BRITON's eye can fee With greater joy the rural tafte arife, Spread wide in native pomp the untortur'd tree, And the plain turf fucceed the tulips dyes, As As Nature boon her fimple charm fupplies Where Art alone the curious eye defcries The fod's more gloffy green, the gardener's nicer care. XXXI. When Grandeur spreads around the extended park The polish'd culture fhall the boundary mark, And graced, not cramp'd by Art, the Work fhall fhine: No need the rule, the level, and the line, Should 'midst the shades intrude with formal mien, The fplendid walk, the verdant carpet fine, The contraft bright of variegated green, Shall fhew that artful care has form'd the extenfive fcene. : XXXII. But when scant Fortune checks this flattering joy, Nor gives to ornament the rural reign, Why the trim Garden's lowlier charms destroy?— Why Husbandry's more homely cares difdain?— If Industry with her affiduous train With ftep reluctant from the spot recedes, What features fhall diftinguish Taste's domain From the expanfe of paftures, and of meads, But Culture's loofer robe, and more luxuriant weeds? SIX |