Page:Cyder - a poem in two books (1708).djvu/58

BOOK II. Thy native Liquors: Lo! for Thee my Mill Now grinds choice Apples, and the British Vats O'erflow with generous Cyder; far remote Accept this Labour, nor despise the Muse, That, passing Lands, and Seas, on Thee attends.


 * Thus far of Trees: The pleasing Task remains,

To sing of Wines, and Autumn's blest Increase. Th' Effects of Art are shewn, yet what avails 'Gainst Heav'n? Oft, notwithstanding all thy Care To help thy Plants, when the small Fruit'ry seems Exempt from Ills, an oriental Blast Disastrous flies, soon as the Hind, fatigu'd, Unyokes his Team; the tender Freight, unskill'd To bear the hot Disease, distemper'd pines In the Year's Prime, the deadly Plague annoys The wide Inclosure; think not vainly now Rh