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E P I S T L E IV.
THE extremes of Avarice and Profufion being treated
of in the foregoing Epistle; this takes up one partiçular branch of the latter, the Vanity of Expence in people of wealth and quality; and is therefore a corollary to the preceding, just as the epistle on the Characters of Women is to that of the Knowledge and Characters of Men. It is equally remarkable for exaciness of method with the rest. But the nature of the subject, which is less philofophical, makes it capable
of being analyzed in a much narrower compass. 'Tis frange, the Mifer should his Cares employ
To gain those riches he can ne'er enjoy :
For what has Virro painted, built, and planted ? Only to shew, how many tastes he wanted. What brought Sir Visto's ill-got wealth to waste ? 15 Some Dæmon whisper'd, “ Visto! have a Taste."
Heaven visits with a Taste the wealthy Fool,
You show us, Rome was glorious, not profuse,
Oft have you hinted to your brother Peer, A certain truth, which many buy too dear :
VARIATION. After ver. 22. in the MS.
Must Bishops, Lawyers, Statesmen, have the skill To build, to plant, judge paintings, what you will ? Then why not Kent as well our treaties draw, Bridgman explain the Gospel, Gibbs the Law ?
Something there is more needful than Expence,
To build, to plant, whatever you intend,
Consult the Genius of the Place in all;
Art the Soul,
Without it, proud Versailles ! thy glory falls: And Nero's Terraces defert their walls : The vast Parterres a thousand hands shall make, Lo! Cobham comes, and floats them with a Lake : Or cut wide views through mountains to the Plain, 75 You'll wish your hill or shelter'd seat again. Evin in an ornament its place remark, Nor in an Hermitage set Dr. Clarke. Behold Villario's ten years toil complete ; His Quincunx darkens, his Espaliers meet; 8 The wood supports the Plain, the parts unite, And strength of Shade contends with strength of Light; A waving Glow the bloomy beds display, Blushing in bright diversities of day, With silver-quivering rills mæander'd o'er 85 Enjoy them, you! Villario can no more ; Tird of the scene Parterres and Fountains yield. He finds at last he better likes a Field.
Through his young Woods how pleas'd Sabinus stray'd, Or fate delighted in the thickening fhade,
90 With annual joy the reddening shoots to greet, Or see the stretching branches long to meet! His Son's fine Taste an opener Vista loves, Foe to the Dryads of his Father's groves ; One boundless Green, or flourish'd Carpet views, 95 With all the mournful family of Yews : The thriving piants ignoble broomsticks made, Now sweep those Alleys they were born to fhade.
At Timon's Villa let us pass a day, Where all cry out, “ What sums are thrown away!"
So proud, fo grand; of that ftupendous air,
I15 No artful Wildness to perplex the scene; Grove nods at grove, each Alley has a brother, And half the platform just reflects the other. The suffering eye inverted Nature sees, Trees cut to Statues, Statues thick as trees; With herę a Fountain, never to be play'd; And there a Summer-house that knows no shade; Here Amphitrite fails through myrtle bowers ; There Gladiators fight, or die in flowers ; Unwater'd see the drooping sea-horse mourn, 125 And swallows roost in Nilus' dusty Urn.
My Lord advances with majestic mien,
y regular approach-not yet