XX.

Berméo’s vines of green most tender send Black clusters soft with purple bloom bespread; And where her gnarled and twisted fig-trees bend ’Neath load of luscious fruit their dark green head, The gathered treasure for a feast is shed. The quince sweet-flavoured, and the juicy gourd, The beautiful love-apple coral-red, And curd-white cheese (an Arcady restored) For Valour’s sons they bring to spread the ambrosial board.