And with fresh flowers deck the wanton prime,
And eke at once the heavy trees they climb,
Which seem to labour under their fruit’s load:
The while the joyous birds make their pastime,
Among the shady leaves, their sweet abode,
And their true loves without suspicion tell abroad.
And all about grew every sort of flower,
To which sad lovers were transformed of yore,” &c.
The dwellings which the few colonists, who had been led by poverty so far from the Cape, erected in the midst of this smiling scene, offered a striking contrast with it. Huts covered with earth, like the dens of wild animals, in which the inhabitants passed the night stretched upon a buffalo’s hide, afforded shelter to men who lived in plenty, and were thus badly lodged from mere idleness. It is now inhabited by Englishmen, and the contrast, it may well be imagined, no longer exists.