Page [unnumbered]
TO Th' Ingeniously Learned, Mr. W. Coles, on this His worthy Labour, intituled, The Paradise of Plants, or, Adam in Eden.
SIr, My Affection, not my Avarice,
Hath made m'Intrude into your Paradise:
Where, to Amazement, I have gladly seen
Earth's fairest Beauties, dress'd in Lovely-green:
So Glorious, so full of Eloquence,
They both surprize, and captivate the Sense:
So Ravishing, I cease to wonder more,
Why Dioclesian, the Emperou••,
Put off His Purple, and resign'd up all,
To lead His Life, within a Garden-Wall:
So various, as if they meant to Vie
Their different Faces, with Humanitie:
So Numerous, wee'd think the Heav'nly Scheme,
Had not a Parent, for each Plant of them;
(Whereas, though Earth their Common Mother be,
They All from Heav'n, derive a Pedegree.)
And yet (to tell you Troth) there is a Plant,
Balis, by name, which Soveraign Herb, I want:
For, Draco, in his Heat, a Man hath slain;
And Thylo-like, I'de have him Live again.
But O their Vertues! those do strike me Mute,
Th'are past Expression; some, past finding out;
Or pestered with an Inconvenience, which
Makes Him that knows 'em, but a knowing-Witch:
And that's one Reason th'are so closely hid,
(Nature's whole System, so inveloped)
And we (Poor Mortalls!) thus expos'd to trie
Endlesse Conclusions, for their Energie.
Nor should w'in any measure, this attain;
But that some Vocal Signatures, explain
The end of their Production, and Restore
To us, in part, what Adam knew before.
In which Grave Search, a number have done well,
But very few, had fortune to excell:
And those that did, the Ancients greatly Priz'd,
Rewarded high, nay, sometime Idoliz'd.
Thus Chiron, for his Skill, was feign'd the Son
Of Saturn and Phillyre; Aesc'lapius won
A God's repute; Blind Homer magnifies
Italian Circe: others, Canonize