Too fond of liberty and ease
A patriot's vanity to please,
Long time he watches, and by stealth,
Each frail incumbent's doubtful health;
At length — and in his fortieth year,
A living drops — two hundred clear!
With breast elate beyond expression,
He hurries down to take possession,
With rapture views the sweet retreat —
"What a convenient house! how neat!
"For fuel here's sufficient wood:
"Pray God the cellars may be good!
"The garden — that must be new plann'd —
"Shall these old-fashion'd yew-trees stand?
"O'er yonder vacant plot shall rise
"The flow'ry shrub of thousand dies: —
"Yon' wall, that feels the southern ray,
"Shall blush with ruddy fruitage gay;
"While thick beneath its aspect warm
"O'er well-rang'd hives the bees shall swarm,
"From which, ere long, of golden gleam
"Metheglin's luscious juice shall stream:
"This aukward hut o'er-grown with ivy,
"We'll alter to a modern privy:
"Up yon' green slope, of hazels trim,
"An avenue so cool and dim,
"Shall to an arbour, at the end,
"In spite of gout, intice a friend.
"My predecessor lov'd devotion —
"But of a garden had no notion."