Note 3 — Chapter IV
Reading edition
Payne Knight, the scourge of Repton and his school, speaking of the license indulged in by the modern landscape-gardeners, thus vents his indignation:
But here, once more, ye rural muses weep The ivy'd balustrade, and terrace steep; Walls, mellowed into harmony by time, On which fantastic creepers used to climb; While statues, labyrinths, and alleys pent Within their bounds, at least were innocent!— Our modern taste—alas!—no limit knows; O'er hill, o'er dale, through wood and field it flows; Spreading o'er all its unprolific spawn, In never-ending sheets of vapid lawn. The Landscape, a didactic Poem, addressed to Uvedale Price, Esq.