Behold ye how these crystal streams do glide, To comfort pilgrims by the highway side; The meadows green, besides their fragrant smell, Yield dainties for them: and he that can tell What pleasant fruit, yea, leaves, these trees do yield, Will soon sell all, that he may buy this field.

So when they were disposed to go on (for they were not, as yet, at their journey’s end), they ate and drank, and departed. 333