Page:Cyder - a poem in two books (1708).djvu/38

BOOK I.  Be it thy Choice, when Summer-Heats annoy, To sit beneath her leafy Canopy, Quaffing rich Liquids: Oh! how sweet t' enjoy, At once her Fruits, and hospitable Shade!


 * But how with equal Numbers shall we match

The Musk's surpassing Worth! that earliest gives Sure hopes of racy Wine, and in its Youth, Its tender Nonage, loads the spreading Boughs With large and juicy Off-spring, that defies The Vernal Nippings, and cold Syderal Blasts! Yet let her to the Read-streak yield, that once Was of the Sylvan Kind, unciviliz'd, Of no Regard, 'till Scudamore's skilful Hand Improv'd her, and by courtly Discipline Taught her the savage Nature to forget: Hence styl'd the Scudamorean Plant; whose Wine Who-ever tastes, let him with grateful Heart Rh