The Birds thir quire apply; aires, vernal aires,

Breathing the smell of field and grove, attune [ 265 ]

The trembling leaves, while Universal Pan

Knit with the Graces and the Hours in dance

Led on th Eternal Spring. Not that faire field

Of Enna, where Proserpin gathering flours

Her self a fairer Floure by gloomie Dis [ 270 ]

Was gatherd, which cost Ceres all that pain

To seek her through the world; nor that sweet Grove

Of Daphne by Orontes, and th inspird

Castalian Spring, might with this Paradise

Of Eden strive; nor that Nyseian Ile [ 275 ]

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