The Garden of Eden Him, the Canceller, Crowned of cords unbound, Whose voice brings nectar forth in every sound; Bright fac’d he rose, and through the trees dids’procure, That sacred light, divine, we call most pure. Rich were the fruits, of every shadowed line, With flowers that in the golden sun did shine. The leaves did glimmer with dew drops ablaze, In harmony of perfect summer days.

A paradise where nature meets the heart, And every living being plays its part.

• John Milton