Their branching arms in air with equal space Stretched to their neighbours with a long embrace: And the new leaves on every bough were seen, Some ruddy-coloured, some of lighter green. The painted birds, companions of the spring, Hopping from spray to spray, were heard to sing. Both eyes and ears received a like delight, Enchanting music, and a charming sight, On Philomel I fixed my whole desire, And listened for the queen of all the quire; Fain would I hear her heavenly voice to sing, And wanted yet an omen to the spring. Attending long in vain, I took the way, Which through a path, but scarcely printed, lay; In narrow mazes oft it seemed to meet, And looked as lightly pressed by fairy feet. Wandering I walked alone, for still methought To some strange end so strange a path was wrought: At last it led me where an arbour stood, The sacred receptacle of the wood: This place unmarked, though oft I walked the green, In all my progress I had never seen; And seized at once with wonder and delight, Gazed all around me, new to the transporting sight. 'Twas benched with turf, and, goodly to be seen, The thick young grass arose in fresher green: The mound was newly made, no sight could pass Betwixt the nice partitions of the grass; The well-united sods so closely lay, And all around the shades defended it from day; For sycamores with eglantine were spread, A hedge about the sides, a covering over head. And so the fragrant brier was wove between, The sycamore and flowers were mixed with green, That nature seemed to vary the delight, And satisfied at once the smell and sight. The master workman of the bower was known Through fairy-lands, and built for Oberon; Who twining leaves with such proportion drew, They rose by measure, and by rule they grew; No mortal tongue can half the beauty tell, For none but hands divine could work so well. Both roof and sides were like a parlour made A soft recess, and a cool summer shade; The hedge was set so thick, no foreign eye The persons placed within it could espy; But all that passed without with ease was seen, As if nor fence nor tree was placed between. 'Twas bordered with a field; and some was plain With grass, and some was sowed with rising grain, That (now the dew with spangles decked the ground) A sweeter spot of earth was never found. I looked and looked, and still with new delight; Such joy my soul, such pleasures filled my sight; And the fresh eglantine exhaled a breath, Whose odours were of power to raise from death. Nor sullen discontent, nor anxious care, Even though brought thither, could inhabit there: But thence they fled as from their mortal foe; For this sweet place could only pleasure know. Thus as I mused, I cast aside my eye, And saw a medlar-tree was planted nigh. The spreading branches made a goodly shew, And full of opening blooms was every bough: