from a long poem The Sugar Cane

 






The cultur'd land recalls the devious Muse;
Propitious to the planter be the call:
For much, my friend, it thee imports to know
The meetest season to commit thy tops,
With best advantage, to the well-dug mould.
The task how difficult, to cull the best
From thwarting sentiments; and best adorn
What Wisdom chuses, in poetic garb!
Yet, Inspiration, come: the theme unsung,
Whence never poet cropt one bloomy wreath;
Its vast importance to my native land,
Whose sweet idea rushes on my mind,
And makes me 'mid this paradise repine;
Urge me to pluck, from Fancy's soaring wing,
A plume to deck Experience hoary brow.


                                   James Grainger -        approx. AD 1765 








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