THE HOP-GARDEN. A GEORGIC. In Two BOOKS.

THE HOP-GARDEN . A GEORGIC . In Two BOOKS . Me quoque Parnassi per lubicra culmina raptat Laudis amor : studium sequor insanabile vatis , Ausus non operam , non formidare poetae Nomen , adoratum quondam , nunc paene procaci Monstratum digito . — Van . Praed . Rust .

THE HOP-GARDEN . A GEORGIC . BOOK the FIRST . THE land that answers best the farmer's care , And silvers to maturity the Hop : When to inhume the plants ; to turn the glebe ; And wed the tendrils to th' aspiring poles : Under what sign to pluck the crop , and how To cure , and in capacious sacks infold , I teach in verse Miltonian . Smile the muse , And meditate an honour to that land Where first I breath'd , and struggled into life Impatient , Cantium , to be call'd thy son . Oh ! cou'd I emulate Dan Sydney's muse , Thy Sydney , Cantium — He from court retir'd In Penshurst's sweet elysium sung delight , Sung transport to the soft-responding streams Of Medway , and enliven'd all her groves : While ever near him , goddess of the green , Fair Sister to Sir Philip Sydney . Pembroke sat , and smil'd immense applause . With vocal fascination charm'd the — foreign HOM. E. Hours Unguarded left Heav'ns adamantine gate , And to his lyre , swift as the winged sounds That skim the air , danc'd unperceiv'd away . Had I such pow'r , no peasants toil , no hops Shou'd e'er debase my lay : far nobler themes , The high atchievements of thy warrior kings Shou'd raise my thoughts , and dignify my song . But I , young rustic , dare not leave my cot , For so enlarg'd a sphere — ah ! muse beware , Lest the loud larums of the braying trump , Lest the deep drum shou'd drown thy tender reed , And mar its puny joints : me , lowly swain , Every unshaven arboret , me the lawns , Me the voluminous Medway's silver wave , Rura mihi , & rigui placeant in vallibus amnes , Flumina amen , sylvasque in glorius ! VIRG. GEORG. 2. Content inglorious , and the hopland shades ! Yeomen , and countrymen attend my song : Whether you shiver in the marshy Commonly , but improperly call'd , the Wild . Weald , Egregious shepherds of unnumber'd flocks , Whose fleeces , poison'd into purple , deck All Europe's kings : or in fair Maidstone . Madum's vale Imparadis'd , blest denizons , ye dwell ; Or Canterbury . Dorovernia's awful tow'rs ye love : Or plough Tunbridgia's salutiferous hills Industrious , and with draughts chalybiate heal'd , Confess divine Hygeia's blissful seat ; The muse demands your presence , ere she tune Her monitory voice ; observe her well , And catch the wholesome dictates as they fall . 'Midst thy paternal acres , Farmer , say Has gracious heav'n bestow'd one field , that basks Its loamy bosom in the mid-day sun , Emerging gently from the abject vale , Nor yet obnoxious to the wind , secure There shall thou plant thy hop . This soil , perhaps , Thou'lt say , will fill my garners . Be it so . But Ceres , rural goddess , at the best Meanly supports her vot'ry' , enough for her , If ill-persuading hunger she repell , And keep the soul from fainting : to enlarge , To glad the heart , to sublimate the mind , And wing the flagging spirits to the sky , Require th' united influence and aid Of Bacchus , God of hops , with Ceres join'd 'Tis he shall gen'rate the buxom beer . Then on one pedestal , and hand in hand , Sculptur'd in Parian stone ( so gratitude Indites ) let the divine co-part'ners rise . Stands eastward in thy field a wood ? 'tis well . Esteem it as a bulwark of thy wealth , And cherish all its branches ; tho' we'll grant , Its leaves umbrageous may intercept The morning rays , and envy some small share Of Sol's beneficence to the infant germ . Yet grutch not that : when whistling Eurus comes , With all his worlds of insects in thy lands To hyemate , and monarchize o'er all Thy vegetable riches , then thy wood Shall ope it's arms expansive , and embrace The storm reluctant , and divert its rage . Armies of animalc'les urge their way In vain : the ventilating trees oppose Their airy march . They blacken distant plains . This site for thy young nursery obtain'd , Thou hast begun auspicious , if the soil ( As sung before ) be loamy ; this the hop Loves above others , this is rich , is deep , Is viscous , and tenacious of the pole . Yet maugre all its native worth , it may Be meliorated with warm compost . See ! Boxley-Hill , which extends through great part of Kent . Yon craggy mountain , whose fastidious head , Divides the star-set hemisphere above , And Cantium's plains beneath ; the Appennine Of a free Italy , whose chalky sides With verdant shrubs dissimilarly gay , Still captivate the eye , while at his feet The silver Medway glides , and in her breast Views the reflected landskip , charm'd she views And murmurs louder ectasy below . Here let us rest awhile , pleas'd to behold Th' all-beautiful horizon's wide expanse , Far as the eagle's ken . Here tow'ring spires First catch the eye , and turn the thoughts to heav'n . The lofty elms in humble majesty Bend with the breeze to shade the solemn groves , And spread an holy darkness ; Ceres there Shines in her golden vesture . Here the meads Enrich'd by Flora's daedal hand , with pride Expose their spotted verdure . Nor are you Pomona absent ; you 'midst th' hoary leaves Swell the vermilion cherry ; and on you trees Suspend the pippen's palatable gold . There old Sylvanus in that moss-grown grot Dwells with his wood-nymphs : they with chaplets green And russet mantles oft bedight , aloft From yon bent oaks , in Medway's bosom fair Wonder at silver bleak , and prickly pearch , That swiftly thro' their floating forests glide . Yet not even these — these ever-varied scenes Of wealth and pleasure can engage my eyes T' o'erlook the lowly hawthorn , if from thence The thrush , sweet warbler , chants th' unstudied lays Which Phoebus' self vaulting from yonder cloud Refulgent , with enliv'ning ray inspires . But neither tow'ring spires , nor lofty elms , Nor golden Ceres , nor the meadows green , Nor orchats , nor the russet-mantled nymphs , Which to the murmurs of the Medway dance , Nor sweetly warbling thrush , with half those charms Attract my eyes , as yonder hop-land close , Joint-work of art and nature , which reminds The muse , and to her theme the wand'rer calls . Here then with pond'rous vehicles and teams Thy rustics send , and from the caverns deep Command them bring the chalk : thence to the kiln Convey , and temper with Vulcanian fires . Soon as 'tis form'd , thy lime with bounteous hand O'er all thy lands disseminate ; thy lands Which first have felt the soft'ning spade , and drank The strength'ning vapours from nutricious marl . This done , select the choicest hop , t' insert Fresh in the opening glebe . Say then , my muse , Its various kinds , and from th' effete and vile , The eligible separate with care . The noblest species is by Kentish wights The Master-hop yclep'd . Nature to him Has giv'n a stouter stalk , patient of cold , Or Phoebus ev'n in youth , his verdant blood In brisk saltation circulates and flows Indesinently vigorous : the next Is arid , fetid , infecund , and gross Significantly styl'd the Fryar : the last Is call'd the Savage , who in ev'ry wood , And ev'ry hedge unintroduc'd intrudes . When such the merit of the candidates , Easy is the election ; but , my friend Would'st thou ne'er fail , to Kent direct thy way , Where no one shall be frustrated that seeks Ought that is great or good . Salve magna parens frugum , Saturnia tellus Magna virûm ; tibi res antiquae laudis & artis Ingredior , sanctos ausus recludere fontes , Ascraeumque cano Romana per oppida carmen . VIRG. GEORG. 2. Hail , Cantium , hail ! Illustrious parent of the finest fruits , Illustrious parent of the best of men ! For thee Antiquity's thrice sacred springs Placidly stagnant at their fountain head , I rashly dare to trouble ( if from thence , If ought for thy util'ty I can drain ) And in thy towns adopt th' Ascraean muse . Hail heroes , hail invaluable gems , Splendidly rough within your native mines , To luxury unrefined , better far To shake with unbought agues in your weald , Than dwell a slave to passion and to wealth , Politely paralytic in the town ! Fav'rites of heav'n ! to whom the general doom Is all remitted , who alone possess Of Adam's sons fair Eden — rest ye here , Nor seek an earthly good above the hop ; A good ! untasted by your ancient kings , And almost to your very sires unknown . In those blest days when great Eliza reign'd O'er the adoring nation , when fair peace Or spread an unstain'd olive round the land , Or laurell'd war did teach our winged fleets To lord it o'er the world , when our brave sires Drank valour from uncauponated beer ; Then th' hop ( before an interdicted plant , Shun'd like fell aconite ) began to hang Its folded floscles from the golden vine , And bloom'd a shade to Cantium's sunny shores Delightsome , and in chearful goblets laught Potent , what time Aquarius' urn impends To kill the dulsome day — potent to quench The Syrian ardour , and autumnal ills To heal with mild potations ; sweeter far Than those which erst the subtile See the following story told at large in Lambarde's perambulation of Kent . Hengist mix'd T' inthral voluptuous Vortigern . He , with love Emasculate and wine , the toils of war , Neglected , and to dalliance vile and sloth Emancipated , saw th' incroaching Saxons With unaffected eyes ; his hand which ought T' have shook the spear of justice , soft and smooth , Play'd ravishing divisions on the lyre : This Hengist mark'd , and ( for curs'd insolence Soon fattens on impunity ! and becomes Briareus from a dwarf ) fair Thanet gain'd . Nor stopt he here ; but to immense attempts Ambition sky-aspiring led him on Adventrous . He an only daughter rear'd , Roxena , matchless maid ! nor rear'd in vain . Her eagle-ey'd callidity , grave deceit , And fairy fiction rais'd above her sex , And furnish'd her with thousand various wiles Preposterous , more than female ; wondrous fair She was , and docile , which her pious nurse Observ'd , and early in each female fraud Her 'gan initiate : well she knew to smile , Whene'er vexation gall'd her ; did she weep ? 'Twas not sincere , the fountains of her eyes Play'd artificial streams , yet so well forc'd They look'd like nature ; for ev'n art to her Was natural , and contrarieties Seem'd in Roxena congruous and allied . Such was she , when brisk Vortigern beheld , Ill-fated prince ! and lov'd her . She perceiv'd , Soon she perceiv'd her conquest ; soon she told , With hasty joy transported , her old sire . The Saxon inly smil'd , and to his isle The willing prince invited , but first bad The nymph prepare the potions ; such as fire The blood's meand'ring rivulets , and depress To love the soul . Lo ! at the noon of night Thrice Hecate invok'd the maid — and thrice The goddess stoop'd assent ; forth from a cloud She stoop'd , and gave the philters pow'r to charm . These in a splendid cup of burnish'd gold The lovely sorceress mix'd , and to the prince Health , peace , and joy propin'd , but to herself Mutter'd dire exorcisms , and wish'd effect To th' love-creating draught : lowly she bow'd Fawning insinuation bland , that might Deceive Laertes' son ; her lucid orbs Shed copiously the oblique rays ; her face Like modest Luna's shone , but not so pale , And with no borrow'd lustre ; on her brow Smil'd Fallacy , while summoning each grace , Kneeling she gave the cup . The prince ( for who ! Who cou'd have spurn'd a suppliant so divine ? ) Drank eager , and in ecstasy devour'd Th' ambrosial perturbation ; mad with love He clasp'd her , and in Hymeneal bands At once the nymph demanded and obtain'd . Now Hengist , all his ample wish fulfill'd , Exulted ; and from Kent th' uxorious prince Exterminated , and usurp'd his seat . Long did he reign ; but all-devouring time Has raz'd his palace walls — Perchance on them Grows the green hop , and o'er his crumbled bust In spiral twines ascends the scancile pole . — But now to plant , to dig , to dung , to weed ; Tasks how indelicate ? demand the muse . Come , fair magician , sportive Fancy come , With thy unbounded imagery ; child of thought , From thy aeriel citadel descend , And ( for thou canst ) assist me . Bring with thee Thy all-creative Talisman ; with thee The active spirits ideal , tow'ring flights , That hover o'er the muse-resounding groves , And all thy colourings , all thy shapes display . Thou too be here , Experience , so shall I My rules nor in low prose jejunely say , Nor in smooth numbers musically err ; But vain is Fancy and Experience vain , If thou , O Hesiod ! Virgil of our land , Or hear'st thou rather , Milton , bard divine , Whose greatness who shall imitate , save thee ? If thou O Mr. John Philips , author of Cyder , a poem . Philips fav'ring dost not hear Me , inexpert of verse ; with gentle hand Uprear the unpinion'd muse , high on the top Of that immeasurable mount , that far Exceeds thine own Plinlimmon , where thou tun'st With Phoebus' self thy lyre . Give me to turn Th' unwieldly subject with thy graceful ease , Extol its baseness with thy art ; but chief Illumine , and invigorate with thy fire . When Phoebus looks thro' Aries on the spring , And vernal flow'rs promise the dulcet fruit , Autumnal pride ! delay not then thy setts In Tellus' facile bosom to depose Timely : if thou art wise the bulkiest chuse : To every root three joints indulge , and form The Quincunx with well regulated hills . Soon from the dung-enriched earth , their heads Thy young plants will uplift , their virgin arms They'll stretch , and marriageable claim the pole . Nor frustrate thou their wishes , so thou may'st Expect an hopeful issue , jolly Mirth , Sister of taleful Jocus , tuneful Song , And fat Good-nature with her honest face . But yet in the novitiate of their love , And tenderness of youth suffice small shoots Cut from the widow'd willow , nor provide Poles insurmountable as yet . 'Tis then When twice bright Phoebus' vivifying ray , Twice the cold touch of winter's icy hand , They've felt ; 'tis then we fell sublimer props . 'Tis then the sturdy woodman's axe from far Resounds , resounds , and hark ! with hollow groans Down tumble the big trees , and rushing roll O'er the crush'd crackling brake , while in his cave Forlorn , dejected , 'midst the weeping dryads Laments Sylvanus for his verdant care . The ash , or willow for thy use select , Or storm-enduring chesnut ; but the oak Unfit for this employ , for nobler ends Reserve untouch'd ; she when by time matur'd , Capacious , of some British demi-god , Vernon , or Warren , shall with rapid wing Infuriate , like Jove's armour-bearing bird , Fly on thy foes ; They , like the parted waves , Which to the brazen beak murmuring give way Amaz'd , and roaring from the fight recede . — In that sweet month , when to the list'ning swains Fair Philomel sings love , and every cot With garlands blooms bedight , with bandage meet The tendrils bind , and to the tall pole tie , Else soon , too soon their meretricious arms Round each ignoble clod they'll fold , and leave Averse the lordly prop . Thus , have I heard Where there's no mutual tye , no strong connection Of love-conspiring hearts , oft the young bride Has prostituted to her slaves her charms , While the infatuated lord admires Miraturque novas frondes , & non sua poma . VIRG. Fresh-budding sprouts , and issue not his own . Now turn the glebe : soon with correcting hand When smiling June in jocund dance leads on Long days and happy hours , from ev'ry vine Dock the redundant branches , and once more With the sharp spade thy numerous acres till . The shovel next must lend its aid , enlarge The little hillocks , and erase the weeds . This in that month its title which derives From great Augustus' ever sacred name ! Sovereign of Science ! master of the Muse ! Neglected Genius' firm ally ! Of worth Best judge , and best rewarder , whose applause To bards was fame and fortune ! O ! 'twas well , Well did you too in this , all glorious heroes ! Ye Romans ! — on Time's wing you've stamp'd his praise , And time shall bear it to eternity . Now are our labours crown'd with their reward , Now bloom the florid hops , and in the stream Shine in their floating silver , while above T'embow'ring branches culminate , and form A walk impervious to the sun ; the poles In comely order stand ; and while you cleave With the small skiff the Medway's lucid wave , In comely order still their ranks preserve , And seem to march along th' extensive plain . In neat arrangement thus the men of Kent , With native oak at once adorn'd and arm'd , Intrepid march'd ; for well they knew the cries Of dying Liberty , and Astraea's voice , Who as she fled , to echoing woods complain'd . Of tyranny , and William ; like a god , Refulgent stood the conqueror , on his troops He sent his looks enliv'ning as the sun's , But on his foes frown'd agony , frown'd death . On his left side in bright emblazonry His falchion burn'd ; forth from his sevenfold shield A basilisk shot adamant ; his brow Wore clouds of fury ! — on that with plumage crown'd Of various hue sat a tremendous cone : Thus sits high-canopied above the clouds , Terrific beauty of nocturnal skies , Aurora Borealis , or lights in the air ; a phoenomenon which of late years has been very frequent here , and in all the more northern countries . Northern Aurora ; she thro' th' azure air Shoots , shoots her trem'lous rays in painted streaks Continual , while waving to the wind O'er Night's dark veil her lucid tresses flow . The trav'ler views th' unseasonable day Astound , the proud bend lowly to the earth , The pious matrons tremble for the world . But what can daunt th' insuperable souls Of Cantium's matchless sons ? On they proceed , All innocent of fear ; each face express'd Contemptuous admiration , while they view'd The well-fed brigades of embroider'd slaves That drew the sword for gain . First of the van , With an enormous bough , a shepherd swain Whistled with rustic notes ; but such as show'd A heart magnanimous : The men of Kent Follow the tuneful swain , while o'er their heads The green leaves whisper , and the big boughs bend . 'Twas thus the Thracian , whose all-quick'ning lyre The floods inspir'd , and taught the rocks to feel , Play'd before dancing Haemus , to the tune , The lute's soft tune ! The flutt'ring branches wave , The rocks enjoy it , and the rivulets hear , The hillocks skip , emerge the humble vales , And all the mighty mountain nods applause . The conqueror view'd them , and as one that sees The vast abrupt of Scylla , or as one That from th' oblivious Lethaean streams Has drank eternal apathy , he stood . His host an universal panic seiz'd Prodigious , inopine ; their armour shook , And clatter'd to the trembling of their limbs ; Some to the walking wilderness gan run Confus'd , and in th' inhospitable shade For shelter sought — Wretches ! they shelter find , Eternal shelter in the arms of death ! Thus when Aquarius pours out all his urn . Down on some lonesome heath , the traveller That wanders o'er the wint'ry waste , accepts The invitation of some spreading beech Joyous ; but soon the treach'rous gloom betrays Th' unwary visitor , while on his head Th' inlarging drops in double show'rs descend . And now no longer in disguise the men Of Kent appear ; down they all drop their boughs , And shine in brazen panoply divine . Enough — Great William ( for full well he knew How vain would be the contest ) to the sons Of glorious Cantium , gave their lives , and laws , And liberties secure , and to the prowess Of Kentish wights , like Caesar , deign'd to yield . Caesar and William ! Hail immortal worthies , Illustrious vanquish'd ! Cantium , if to them , Posterity with all her chiefs unborn , Ought similar , ought second has to boast , Once more ( so prophecies the Muse ) thy sons Shall triumph , emulous of their sires — till then With olive , and with hop-land garlands crown'd , O'er all thy land reign Plenty , reign fair Peace .

THE HOP-GARDEN . A GEORGIC . BOOK the SECOND . Omnia quae multo ante memor provisa repones , Si te digna manet divini gloria ruris . VIRG. Geor . lib. 1. THE HOP-GARDEN . A GEORGIC . BOOK the SECOND . AT length the Muse her destin'd task resumes With joy ; agen o'er all her hop-land groves She longs t' expatiate free of wing . Long while For a much-loving , much-lov'd youth she wept , And sorrow'd silence o'er th' untimely urn . Hush then , effeminate sobs ; and thou , my heart , Rebel to grief no more — And yet a while , A little while , indulge the friendly tears . O'er the wild world , like Noah's dove , in vain I seek the olive peace , around me wide See ! see ! the wat'ry waste — In vain , forlorn I call the Phoenix fair Sincerity ; Alas ! — extinguish'd to the skies she fled , And left no heir behind her . Where is now Th' eternal smile of goodness ? Where is now That all-extensive charity of soul , So rich in sweetness , that the classic sounds In elegance Augustan cloath'd , the wit That flow'd perennial , hardly were observ'd , Or , if observ'd , set off a brighter gem . How oft , and yet how seldom did it seem ! Have I enjoy'd his converse ? — When we met , The hours how swift they sweetly fled , and till Agen I saw him , how they loiter'd . Oh ! Mr. Theophilus Wheeler , of Christ-College , Cambridge . THEOPHILUS , thou dear departed soul , What flattering tales thou told'st me ? How thou'dst hail My Muse , and took'st imaginary walks All in my hopland groves ! Stay yet , oh stay ! Thou dear deluder , thou hast seen but half — He's gone ! and ought that's equal to his praise Fame has not for me , tho' she prove most kind . Howe'er this verse be sacred to thy name , These tears , the last sad duty of a friend . Oft i'll indulge the pleasurable pain Of recollection ; oft on Medway's banks I'll muse on thee full pensive ; while her streams Regardful ever of my grief , shall flow In sullen silence silverly along The weeping shores — or else accordant with My loud laments , shall ever and anon Make melancholy music to the shades , The hopland shades , that on her banks expose Serpentine vines and flowing locks of gold . Ye smiling nymphs , th' inseparable train Of saffron Ceres ; ye , that gamesome dance , And sing to jolly Autumn , while he stands With his right hand poizing the scales of heav'n , And with his left grasps Amalthea's horn : Young chorus of fair bacchanals , descend , And leave a while the sickle ; yonder hill , Where stand the loaded hop-poles , claims your care . There mighty Bacchus stradling cross the bin , Waits your attendance — There he glad reviews His paunch , approaching to immensity Still nearer , and with pride of heart surveys Obedient mortals , and the world his own . See ! from the great metropolis they rush , Th' industrious vulgar . They , like prudent bees , In Kent's wide garden roam , expert to crop The flow'ry hop , and provident to work , Ere winter numb their sunburnt hands , and winds Engoal them , murmuring in their gloomy cells . From these , such as appear the rest t' excell In strength and young agility , select . These shall support with vigour and address The bin-man's weighty office ; now extract From the sequacious earth the pole , and now Unmarry from the closely clinging vine . O'er twice three pickers , and no more , extend The bin-man's sway ; unless thy ears can bear The crack of poles continual , and thine eyes Behold unmoved the hurrying peasant tear Thy wealth , and throw it on the thankless ground . But first the careful planter will consult His quantity of acres , and his crop , How many and how large his kilns ; and then Proportion'd to his wants the hands provide . But yet , of greater consequence and cost , One thing remains unsung , a man of faith And long experience , in whose thund'ring voice Lives hoarse authority , potent to quell The frequent frays of the tumultuous crew . He shall preside o'er all thy hop-land store , Severe dictator ! His unerring hand , And eye inquisitive , in heedful guise , Shall to the brink the measure fill , and fair On the twin registers the work record . And yet I've known them own a female reign , And gentle The Author's youngest Sister . Marianne's soft Orphean voice Has hymn'd sweet lessons of humanity To the wild brutal crew . Oft her command Has sav'd the pillars of the hopland state , The lofty poles from ruin , and sustain'd , Like ANNA , or ELIZA , her domain , With more than manly dignity . Oft I've seen , Ev'n at her frown the boist'rous uproar cease , And the mad pickers , tam'd to diligence , Cull from the bin the sprawling sprigs , and leaves That stain the sample , and its worth debase . All things thus settled and prepared , what now Can let the planters purposes ? Unless The Heavens frown dissent , and ominous winds Howl thro' the concave of the troubled sky . And oft , alas ! the long experienc'd wights ( Oh ! could they too prevent them ) storms foresee . Numquam imprudentibus imber Obfuit . Aut illum surgentem vallibus imis Aëriae fugere grues : aut bucula coelum Suspiciens , patulis captavit naribus auras : Aut arguta lacus circumvolitavit hirundo : Et veterem in limo ranae cecinere querelam . Saepius & tectis penetralibus extulit ova Angustum formica terens iter , & bibit ingens Arcus & e pastu decedens agmine magno Corvorum increpuit densis exercitus alis . Jam varias pelagi volucres , & quae Asia circum Dulcibus in stagnis rimantur prata Caystri , Certatim largos humeris infundere rores ; Nunc caput objectare fretis , nunc currere in undas , Et studio incassum videas gestire lavandi . Tum cornix plena pluviam vocat improba voce , Et sola in sicca secum spatiatur arena . Nec nocturna quidem carpentes pensa puellae Nescivere hyemem . VIRG. Georg . 1. For , as the storm rides on the rising clouds , Fly the fleet wild-geese far away , or else The heifer towards the zenith rears her head , And with expanded nostrils snuffs the air : The swallows too their airy circuits weave , And screaming skim the brook ; and fen-bred frogs Forth from their hoarse throats their old grutch recite : Or from her earthly coverlets the ant Heaves her huge eggs along the narrow way : Or bends Thaumantia's variegated bow Athwart the cope of heav'n : or sable crows Obstreperous of wing , in crouds combine : Besides , unnumber'd troops of birds marine , And Asia's feather'd flocks , that in the muds Of flow'ry-edg'd Cayster wont to prey , Now in the shallows duck their speckled heads , And lust to lave in vain , their unctious plumes Repulsive baffle their efforts : Next hark How the curs'd raven , with her harmful voice , Invokes the rain , ahd croaking to herself , Struts on some spacious solitary shore . Nor want thy servants and thy wife at home Signs to presage the show'r ; for in the hall Sheds Niobe her prescious tears , and warns Beneath thy leaden tubes to fix the vase , And catch the falling dew-drops , which supply Soft water and salubrious , far the best To soak thy hops , and brew thy generous beer . But tho' bright Phoebus smile , and in the skies The purple-rob'd serenity appear ; Tho' every cloud be fled , yet if the rage Of Boreas , or the blasting East prevail , The planter has enough to check his hopes , And in due bounds confine his joy ; for see The ruffian winds , in their abrupt career , Leave not a hop behind , or at the best Mangle the circling vine , and intercept The juice nutricious : Fatal means , alas ! Their colour and condition to destroy . Haste then , ye peasants ; pull the poles , the hops ; Where are the bins ? Run , run , ye nimble maids , Move ev'ry muscle , ev'ry nerve extend , To save our crop from ruin , and ourselves . Soon as bright Chanticleer explodes the night With flutt'ring wings , and hymns the new-born day , The bugle-horn inspire , whose clam'rous bray Shall rouse from sleep the rebel rout , and tune To temper for the labours of the day . Wisely the several stations of the bins By lot determine . Justice this , and this Fair Prudence does demand ; for not without A certain method cou'dst thou rule the mob Irrational , nor every where alike Fair hangs the hop to tempt the picker's hand . Now see the crew mechanic might and main Labour with lively diligence , inspir'd By appetie of gain and lust of praise : What mind so petty , servile , and debas'd , As not to know ambition ? Her great sway From Colin Clout to Emperors she exerts . To err is human , human to be vain . 'Tis vanity , and mock desire of fame , That prompts the rustic , on the steeple top Sublime , to mark the outlines of his shoe , And in the area to engrave his name . With pride of heart the churchwarden surveys , High o'er the bellfry , girt with birds and flow'rs , His story wrote in capitals : " 'Twas I " That bought the font ; and I repair'd the pews . " With pride like this the emulating mob Strive for the mastery — who first may fill The bellying bin , and cleanest cull the hops . Nor ought retards , unless invited out By Sol's declining , and the evening's calm , Leander leads Laetitia to the scene Of shade and fragrance — Then th' exulting band Of pickers male and female , seize the fair Reluctant , and with boist'rous force and brute , By cries unmov'd , they bury her in the bin . Nor does the youth escape — him too they seize , And in such posture place as best may serve To hide his charmer's blushes . Then with shouts They rend the echoing air , and from them both ( So custom has ordain'd ) a largess claim . Thus much be sung of picking — next succeeds Th' important care of curing — Quit the field , And at the kiln th' instructive muse attend . On your hair-cloth eight inches deep , nor more , Let the green hops lie lightly ; next expand The smoothest surface with the toothy rake . Thus far is just above ; but more it boots That charcoal flames burn equably below , The charcoal flames , which from thy corded wood , Or antiquated poles , with wond'rous skill , The sable priests of Vulcan shall prepare . Constant and moderate let the heat ascend ; Which to effect , there are , who with success Place in the kiln the ventilating fan . Hail , learned , useful Dr. Hales . man ! whose head and heart Conspire to make us happy , deign t' accept One honest verse ; and if thy industry Has serv'd the hopland cause , the Muse forebodes This sole invention , both in use and fame , The Mystica Vannus Iacchi . VIRG. Geor . 1. mystic fan of Bacchus shall exceed . When the fourth hour expires , with careful hand The half-bak'd hops turn over . Soon as time Has well exhausted twice two glasses more , They'll leap and crackle with their bursting seeds , For use domestic , or for sale mature . There are , who in the choice of cloth t'enfold Their wealthy crop , the viler , coarser sort , With prodigal oeconomy prefer : All that is good is cheap , all dear that's base . Besides , the planter shou'd a bait prepare , T' intrap the chapman's notice , and divert Shrewd Observation from her busy pry . When in the bag thy hops the rustic treads , Let him wear heel-less sandals ; nor presume Their fragrancy barefooted to defile : Such filthy ways for slaves in Malaga Leave we to practise — Whence I've often seen , When beautiful Dorinda's iv'ry hands Had built the pastry-fabric ( food divine For Christmas gambols and the hour of mirth ) As the dry'd foreign fruit , with piercing eye , She cull'd suspicious — lo ! she starts , she frowns With indignation at a negro's nail . Should'st thou thy harvest for the mart design , Be thine own factor ; nor employ those drones Who've stings , but make no honey , selfish slaves ! That thrive and fatten on the planter's toil . What then remains unsung ? unless the care To stack thy poles oblique in comely cones , Lest rot or rain destroy them — 'Tis a sight Most seemly to behold , and gives , O Winter ! A landskip not unpleasing ev'n to thee . And now , ye rivals of the hopland state , Madum and Dorovernia rejoice , How great amidst such rivals to excel ! Let Greenwich , where Q. Elizabeth was born . Grenovicum boast ( for boast she may ) The birth of great Eliza . — Hail , my queen ! And yet I'll call thee by a dearer name , My countrywoman , hail ! Thy worth alone Gives fame to worlds , and makes whole ages glorious ! Let Sevenoaks vaunt the hospitable seat Of The seat of the Duke of Dorset . Knoll most ancient : Awefully , my Muse , These social scenes of grandeur and delight , Of love and veneration , let me tread . How oft beneath you oak has amorous Prior Awaken'd Echo with sweet Chloe's name ! While noble Sackville heard , hearing approv'd , Approving , greatly recompens'd . But he , Alas ! has number'd with th' illustrious dead , And orphan merit has no guardian now ! Next Shipbourne , tho' her precincts are confin'd To narrow limits , yet can shew a train Of village beauties , pastorally sweet , And rurally magnificent . Here The seat of Lord Vane . Fairlawn Opes her delightful prospects : Dear Fairlawn There , where at once at variance and agreed , Nature and art hold dalliance . There where rills Kiss the green drooping herbage , there where trees , The tall trees-tremble at th' approach of heav'n , And bow their salutation to the sun , Who fosters all their foliage — These are thine , Yes , little Shipbourne , boast that these are thine — And if — But oh ! — and if 'tis no disgrace , The birth of him who now records thy praise . Nor shalt thou , Mereworth , remain unsung , Where noble Westmoreland , his country's friend , Bids British greatness love the silent shade , Where piles superb , in classic elegance , Arise , and all is Roman , like his heart . Nor Chatham , tho' it is not thine to shew The lofty forest or the verdant lawns , Yet niggard silence shall not grutch thee praise . The lofty forests by thy sons prepar'd Becomes the warlike navy , braves the floods , And gives Sylvanus empire in the main . Oh that Britannia , in the day of war , Wou'd not alone Minerva's valour trust , But also hear her wisdom ! Then her oaks Shap'd by her own mechanics , wou'd alone Her island fortify , and fix her fame ; Nor wou'd she weep , like Rachael , for her sons , Whose glorious blood , in mad profusion , In foreign lands is shed — and shed in vain . Now on fair Dover's topmost cliff I'll stand , And look with scorn and triumph on proud France . Of yore an isthmus jutting from this coast , Join'd the Britannic to the Gallic shore ; But Neptune on a day , with fury fir'd , Rear'd his tremendous trident , smote the earth , And broke th' unnatural union at a blow . — " 'Twixt you and you , my servants and my sons , " Be there ( he cried ) eternal discord — France " Shall bow the neck to Cantium's peerless offspring , " And as the oak reigns lordly o'er the shrub , " So shall the hop have homage from the vine . "