IN PRAISE OF GARDENS 



Of instruments of strenges in acord 

 Herde I so playe a ravisshyng swetnesse, 

 That God, that maker is of al and Lord, 

 Ne herde never beter, as I gesse; 

 Therewith a wynd, unnethe it myghte be lesse, 

 Made in the leves grene a noyse softe, 

 Acordant to the foules songe on-lofte. 



The air of that place so attempre was 

 That never was grevaunce of heat ne cold; 

 There wex eek every holsom spice and gras; 

 Ne no man may ther wexe seek ne old, 

 Yit was ther joye more a thousand fold 

 Than man can telle ; ne never wolde it myghte, 

 But ay cleer day to any mannes sighte. 

 GEOFFREY CHAUCER. 

 The Parlement of Foules. 



Then did I see a pleasant Paradize, 

 Full of sweete floures and daintiest delights, 

 Such as on earth man could no more devize, 

 With pleasures choyce to feed his cheerefull 



sp rights: 



Not that, which Merlin by his magicke slights 

 Made for the gentle Squire, to entertaine 

 His fayre Belphoebe, could this gardine staine. 



[30] 



