"No dainty flower or herb that grows on ground, No arboret with painted blossoms drest, And smelling sweet, but there it might be found To bud out fair, and its sweet smells throw all around.

Nearer he drew, and many a walk traversed Of stateliest covert, cedar, pine, or palm; Then voluble and bold, now hid, now seen, Among thick woven arborets, and flowers Imborder'd on each bank, the hand of Eve Paradise Lost.