Alexander Pope,
An Epistle to the Right Honourable Richard…
(1731)
“ Tir'd of the Scene Parterres and Fountains yield,He finds at last he better likes a Field. Thro' his young Woods how pleas'd Sabinus stray'd,Or sate delighted in the thick'ning Shade,With annual Joy the red'ning Shoots to greet,And see the stretching Branches long to meet!His Son's fine Taste an op'ner Vista loves,Foe to the Dryads of his Father's Groves, One boundless Green or flourish'd Carpet views,With all the mournful Family of Yews;The thriving Plants ignoble Broomsticks madeNow sweep those Allies they were born to shade. Yet hence the Poor are cloth'd, the Hungry fed ”
