Why this harsh complaint of me

Why this harsh complaint of me? Two of a trade, 'tis plain, can ne'er agree. But if between us rights were fairly settled, About these flow'rs, 'tis I, Ma'am, should be nettled.

From Spring's first bud to Autumn's latest flow'r, I own your magic, and admire your power: And as I count those wond'rous beauties o'er, E'en with a lover's fondness I adore. Affection kindles, warms th' enthusiast heart, Till love of NATURE leads to love of ART.

Dear NATURE, "thou 'rt my Goddess!" yet 'tis hard Thou wilt not grant thy vo'try her reward. Suppose yourself a moment in my place, Pray, Madam, let us truly state the case, The carrots and the turnips both are thine, Your's the material, tho' the work be mine; And, if I build, 'tis with your brick and straw: The abettor and the thief both feel the law. You say I steal—who help'd me, Ma'am to cheat? 'Tis NATURE at the bottom of the feat. But e'en in theft you owe my art a favor, Since my stol'n goods give yours a double flavor. Nor for my flow'rs ought you to be my foe, Mine do not come 'till yours are out of blow.