No plant now knew the stock from which it came;
He grafts upon the wild the tame :
That the uncertain and adult'rate fruit
Might put the palate in dispute.
His green seraglio has its eunuchs too,
Lest any tyrant him outdoe;
And in the cherry he does Nature vex,
To procreate without a sex.
'Tis all enforc❜d, the fountain and the grot;
While the sweet fields do lye forgot,
Where willing Nature does to all dispence
A wild and fragrant innocence,
And fauns and fairyes do the meadows till
More by their presence then their skill.
Their statues, polish'd by some ancient hand,
May to adorn the gardens stand;
But, howso'ere the figures do excel,
The Gods themselves with us do dwell.