And often e'en a branch with berries loaded
May be entrusted to the grateful ground;
* * * * *[126]
Or with well-sharpen'd knife cut off the shoots,
And plait them into baskets,
* * * * *
High on the top the calyx full of seed
Grows with white leaves, tinged in the heart with gold,
Which some call crina, others liria,
Others ambrosia, but those who love