The verdure of the meadow green, the odor of the flowers, The grateful shadows of the trees, tempered with fragrant showers, Refreshed me in the burning heat of the sultry noontide hours; O, one might live upon the balm and fragrance of those bowers. Ne’er had I found on earth a spot that had such power to please, Such shadows from the summer sun, such odors on the breeze; I threw my mantle on the ground, that I might rest at ease, And stretched upon the greensward lay in the shadow of the trees. There, soft reclining in the shade, all cares beside me flung, I heard the soft and mellow notes that through the woodland rung. Ear never listened to a strain, from instrument or tongue, So mellow and harmonious as the songs above me sung.” See also Brunetto Latini, Tesoretto , XIX ; the Vision of Piers Ploughman ; Gower’s Confessio Amantis , VIII , etc. ↩