How twisting gourds pursue their mazy way,
Swell as they creep, and widen into day;
How verdant celery decks its humid bed,
How late-blown flow’rets round narcissus spread;
The lithe acanthus, and the ivy hoar,
And myrtle blooming on the sea-beat shore.
Yes, I remember where Galæsus leads
His flood dark-winding through the golden meads,
Where proud Œbalia’s tow’rs o’erlook the plain,
Once I beheld an old Corcyrian swain;