Page:Cyder - a poem in two books (1708).djvu/36

BOOK I.
 * Now turn thine Eye to view Alcinous' Groves,

The Pride of the Phæacian Isle, from whence, Sailing the Spaces of the boundless Deep, To Ariconium pretious Fruits arriv'd: The Pippin burnisht o'er with Gold, the Moile Of sweetest hony'd Taste, the fair Permain, Temper'd, like comliest Nymph, with red and white. Salopian Acres flourish with a Growth Peculiar, styl'd the Ottley: Be thou first This Apple to transplant; if to the Name It's Merit answers, no where shalt thou find A Wine more priz'd, or laudable of Taste. Nor does the Eliot least deserve thy Care, Nor John-Apple, whose wither'd Rind, entrencht With many a Furrow, aptly represents Decrepid Age; nor that from Harvey nam'd, Quick-relishing: Why should we sing the Thrift, Rh