VIII
And foorth they passe, with pleasure forward led,
Joying to heare the birdes sweete harmony,
Which therein shrouded from the tempest dred,
Seemd in their song to scorne the cruell sky.
Much can they prayse the trees so straight and hy,
The sayling Pine,[°] the Cedar proud and tall,
The vine-prop Elme, the Poplar never dry,[°]
The builder Oake,[°] sole king of forrests all,
The Aspine good for staves, the Cypresse funerall.[°]