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The Prospect of a LANDSKIP, Beginning with a GROVE.
WEll might the Antients deem a Grove to be
The Sacred Mansion of some Deity;
For it our Souls insensibly do's move,
At once to humble Piety and Love,
The choicest Blessings Heav'n to us has giv'n,
And the best Off'ring we can make to Heav'n;
These only poor Mortality make bless'd,
And to Inquietude exhibit rest;
By these our rationality is shown,
The cognisance by which from Brutes we'r known.
For who themselves of Piety devest,
Are surely but a Moral kind of Beasts;
But those whom gentle Laws of Love can't bind,
Are Salvages of the most sordid kind.
But none like these do in our Shades obtrude,
Though scornfully some needs will call th••m rude
Yet Nature's culture is so well exprest,
That Art her self would wish to be so drest: