208 
APPENDIX. 
There, like a bird, it sits and sings, 
Then whets and claps its silver wings, 
And till prepared for longer flight, 
Waves in its plumes the various light. 
Such was the happy garden state, 
While man there walked without a mate: 
After a place so pure and sweet, 
What other help could yet be meet! 
But ’twas beyond a mortal’s share 
To wander solitary there : 
Two paradises are in one, 
To live in paradise alone. 
How well the skilful gardener drew 
Of flowers and herbs this dial new! 
Where from above the milder sun 
Does through a fragrant zodiac run: 
And, as it works, th’ industrious bee 
Computes its time as well as we. 
How could such sweet and wholesome hours 
Be reckoned, but with herbs and flowers ? ” 
