Bliss had newly
Alighted, and shut close his rainbow wings,
To rest at ease, nor dread intruding ill.
I think he was enchanted by those tropical
Airy aisles and living colonnades,
Where nations might have worshipp’d God in peace.
For, with an energy which a tree would call religious, he describes their flourishing, and how the Indian fig was multiplied:—
From year to year their fruits ungather’d fall;
Not lost, but quickening where they lay, they struck
Root downward, and brake forth on every hand,