And there the alder was, with its bright green,
And the broad chestnut, and the poplar’s shoot
That, like a feather, waves from head to foot;
With ever and anon majestic pines;
And still, from tree to tree, the early vines
Hung, garlanding the way in amber lines.
…
And then perhaps you entered upon shades,
Pillowed with dells and uplands ’twixt the glades
Through which the distant palace, now and then,