Four acres was th’ allotted space of ground,
Fenced with a green inclosure all around,
Tall thriving trees confessed the fruitful mold;
The redd’ning apple ripens here to gold.
Here the blue fig with luscious juice o’erflows,
With deeper red the full pomegranate glows;
The branch here bends beneath the weighty pear,
And verdant olives flourish round the year.
The balmy spirit of the western gale
Eternal breathes on fruits untaught to fail: