But these between a silver streamlet[56] glides,

And scarce a name distinguisheth the brook,

Though rival kingdoms press its verdant sides:

Here leans the idle shepherd on his crook,

And vacant on the rippling waves doth look,

That peaceful still 'twixt bitterest foemen flow;

For proud each peasant as the noblest duke:

Well doth the Spanish hind the difference know

'Twixt him and Lusian slave, the lowest of the low. [6.B.]