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Alexander Pope - In Imitation of Cowley : The Garden
Work rating: Medium

Fain would my Muse the flow`ry Treasures sing,
And humble glories of the youthful Spring;
Where opening Roses breathing sweets diffuse,
And soft Carnations show`r their balmy dews;
Where Lilies smile in virgin robes of white,
The thin Undress of superficial Light,
And vary`d Tulips show so dazzling gay,
Blushing in bright diversities of day.
Each painted flow`ret in the lake below
Surveys its beauties, whence its beauties grow;
And pale Narcissus on the bank, in vain
Transformed, gazes on himself again.
Here aged trees Cathedral Walks compose,
And mount the Hill in venerable rows:
There the green Infants in their beds are laid,
The Garden`s Hope, and its expected shade.
Here Orange-trees with blooms and pendantis shine,
And vernal honours to their autumn join;
Exceed their promise in the ripen`d store,
Yet in the rising blossom promise more.
There in bright drops the crystal Fountains play,
By Laurels shielded from the piercing day;
Where Daphne, now a tree as once a maid,
Still from Apollo vindicates her shade,
Still turns her Beauties from th` invading beam,
Nor seeks in vain for succour to the Stream.
The stream at once preserves her virgin leaves,
At once a shelter from her boughs receives,
Where Summer`s beauty midst of Winter stays,
And Winter`s Coolness spite of Summer`s rays.
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