There the large olive rains its amber store

In marble fonts; there grain, and flower, and fruit,

Gush from the earth until the land runs o'er;[243]But there, too, many a poison-tree has root,

And Midnight listens to the lion's roar,

And long, long deserts scorch the camel's foot,

Or heaving whelm the helpless caravan;

And as the soil is, so the heart of man.