Upon the most Hopeful and ever-flourishing sprouts of Valour, the indefatigable Centries of the Physick-Garden.  

Although not brandished Cherubins are here,  
Yet Sons of Adam venture not too near,  
Nor pluck forbidden fruit: if with intent  
To visit Paradise be Innocent.  
Here's your [Nil ultra] else; in each of these  
Is both a Pillar and an Hercules.  
If you not dread their looks, yet may you fear  
The many strange Fatalities they bear.  
The Emblem of Mortality the Yew  
Does likewise now the Armed Agent show;  
And if unwary Mortals slight their Guard,  
They doubly make the Garden a Churchyard.  
In this Conjunction mischief's never scant,  
The Saturnine's become a Martial Plant:  
Far off, in Heaven itself are these bad Stars;  
What here at hand, when Saturn clubs with Mars.  
Th' Hesperian Dragon, were it not a Fable,  
Then these our Porters is less admirable.  
Their blood is Poison; Pestilent their Breath;  
And very shade the shadow is of Death.  
But since in England they can do no harm  
Internal, they for outward mischief Arm;  
Desperate Poison in most Foreign ground,  
Instead of Sickness, here they mean to Wound.  
(As lately Rebels served that Blessed Head,  
When Poison might not do, they struck Him dead)  
Who dares be safe? no Turk is Armed so,  
When every member of them is a Bow.  
Even Arms are Armed; Bows charged with Mace or Bill;  
So that at once with Sroke and Shot they Kill.  
And lop each limb you cannot strike them dead;  
Each limb will multiply like Hydra's head.  
Some Vegetables do themselves Protect  
With Prickles, Stings, or Stinks of same effect.  
Our Garden Genii, more general,  
Do not defend themselves alone, but all.  
Old Heroes hung their Weapons, so as these,  
For signal Victories on signal Trees:  
But, sure of Conquest, these presumptuous Sophys  
Do antedate: are Victors both and Trophys.  
If Quibbling Cambridge, when they next Commense,  
" Shall say, here's Terrae filii without sense,  
" And very Blockheads: know that they were meant  
For Military not a learned intent.  
Valour and Wit at equal Honour fly,  
Yet Valour often, seldom Wit dwells high.  
As Wisemen most are Cowards; so 'tis fit  
That Combatants have neither Fear nor Wit.  
Their Education though they may not brand,  
Bred in the Gardens Garden of the Land.  
Manners make Men, of Men, means Wickham's Box,  
Our Yews declare they may be made of Stocks,  
By culture too: And Trunks assume of late  
The grand Proprieties of Humane state:  
Couched in an Oak the Sovereignty ye knew;  
See here appropriate valour in the Yew.  
Say, they are Speechless too: the Men of Swords  
And truly valiant are not men of Words.  
They Murmur though, & shake their Crests disturbed  
By saucy Winds: nor would their rage be curbed,  
Were't not in vain their Honour to repair,  
When 'tis to fight the Winds, and beat the Ayr.  
Jove whispers Peace; or else we well might wonder  
He, so secure, let's rust his dastard Thunder.  
These Earthborn Giants take a different course,  
By plots more perilous than was their Force.  
Each Man's an Ambuscado; and may well  
Be said at once Perdue and Sentinel.  
How they advance towards Heaven Night and Day  
And strength increases still upon the way.  
Yet march unseen: But Jove's all-kenning eye  
Did soon these wily stratagems espy.  
Else might th' All-conqueror have been surprised,  
As was our own, by men in Boughs disguised.  
So that Apollo's sent a league to treat,  
And to Caresse them with his gentle heat;  
With numerous Presents of his golden Rays;  
And farther promise of serener days.  
Else would their force crack Heaven's chariot wh●●●●  
But prorstrate Earth too hangs about their heels;  
And as an Ancient loyal Sabine Wife,  
Ventures to intercede, and part the strife.  
So men, whose humbler scope is heaven's Crown,  
With darling Earth are clogged and fettered down.  
Can we believe but what old people do;  
They were not only Men, but Christian too,  
Who fright the Devil himself; had God but set  
In his first Colony this Amulet;  
No work for Cherub had there been: no doubt  
The Fiend had been, and not poor Man cast out.  
And Proserpina might here have filled her lap  
With only flowers, and not an after-clap.  
From Sons of Adam now we must retrieve  
One warning to the Daughters next of Eve.  
You Ladies whom Priapus can't affright,  
Whose toyish weapon rather does invite,  
(Proscribed for his indulgence) since you are  
Beneath displeasure, therefore do not dare  
To use the Garden so as Men use you;  
At once to love ye, and deflower ye too.  
Gardens of Beauties, many in pursuit  
Are of your own choice flowers, and rarest fruit▪  
Weak is your Sex; you know the devil in Swine  
Was ne'er repulsed by hedge of Eglantine.  
If yet the Courtier Fox, or Ruffian Bore  
That mound have never undermined and tore,  
Thus fortify yourselves; in your defence  
Set Giant Honour, Giant Conscience.  
So shall you never keep, by this advice,  
Knave's Kitchen-Garden, but Fools Par●●●●●   

So farewell Heroes; Who shall Simo ng of you  
When as Heroick is Georgick to o.    

Printed 16 64 Joh. Drop M. of A. Fellow of Magd Coll the author.