[V. 194.]Drawne nigh the tops, where fire-worne Cedars grow,
And here, or there, some cooling spots of snow:
Whence Rills doe spring and speedy Torrents fall
To loose scorchd floures, that burning heat would thrall:
Here heards frequent, whose pleasant toyles doe rest
Of mountaines all, on Liban, onely best:
Where piping Pan, and Silvan doe accord,
To lurke with Ceres, and make Bacchus Lord;
Pitch’d under silent shades; whence Eden Towne
These bounds for Paradice, dare firmely crowne: