Groves of stowe XII

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Here future Lovers, when in Troops they come,

Venus, to visit thy distinguish'd Dome,

As thro' this consecrated Shade they pass,

Shall offer to the Genius of the Place.

Shift now the closer Scene: and view around,

With various Beauties the wide Landskip crown'd.

Here level Glades extend their length'ning Lines,

There in just Order the deep Quincunce shines.

Here chrystal Lakes reflect contiguous Shades,

There distant Hills uplift their azure Heads.

Round the free Lawn here gadding Heifers stray,

And frisking Lambs in sportive Gambols play.

There murmur to the Wind Groves ever-green,

And inter-mingled Buildings rise between:

The Sun declin'd with milder Glory burns,

And the fair Piece with various Light adorns.

Lo! in the Centre of this beauteous Scene,

Glitters beneath her Dome the Cyprian Queen:

Not like to her, whom ancient Homer prais'd,

To whom a thousand sacred Altars blaz'd:

When simple Beauty was the only Charm,

With which each tender Nymph and Swain grew warm:

But, Yielding to the now-prevailing Taste,

In Gold, for modern Adoration, drest.

For her the Naiads, in their watry Bed,

Amid the level Green a Mirror spread;

Along whose terass'd Banks the shelt'ring Wood,

Defends from ruder Winds th' unruffled Flood.

 

Done