When Epicurus to the world had taught That pleasure was the chiefest good, (And was perhaps i’ th’ right, if rightly understood) His life he to his doctrine brought, And in a garden’s shade that sovereign pleasure sought. Whoever a true epicure would be, May there find cheap and virtuous luxury. Vitellius his table, which did hold As many creatures as the Ark of old, That fiscal table, to which every day All countries did a constant tribute pay, Could nothing more delicious afford Than Nature’s liberality, Helped with a little art and industry, Allows the meanest gardener’s board. The wanton taste no fish or fowl can choose For which the grape or melon she would lose, Though all the inhabitants of sea and air Be listed in the glutton’s bill of fare; Yet still the fruits of earth we see Placed the third storey high in all her luxury. VII. But with no sense the garden does comply, None courts or flatters, as it does the eye; When the great Hebrew king did almost strain The wondrous treasures of his wealth and brain His royal southern guest to entertain, Though, she on silver floors did tread, With bright Assyrian carpets on them spread To hide the metal’s poverty; Though she looked up to roofs of gold, And nought around her could behold But silk and rich embroidery, And Babylonian tapestry, And wealthy Hiram’s princely dye: Though Ophir’s starry stones met everywhere her eye; Though she herself and her gay host were dressed With all the shining glories of the East; When lavish art her costly work had done; The honour and the prize of bravery Was by the Garden from the Palace won; And every rose and lily there did stand Better attired by Nature’s hand: The case thus judged against the king we see, By one that would not be so rich, though wiser far than he. VIII.