XII. The Forest. THIS FROM EVANGELINE." HIS is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks, Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight, Stand like Druids of old, with voices sad and prophetic, Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms. H. W. LONGFELLOW. SONG. Under the greenwood tree Who loves to lie with me, And tune his merry note Unto the sweet bird's throat, Come hither, come hither, come hither; No enemy, But winter and rough weather. SHAKSPEARE A GROVE. FROM "BRITANNIA'S PASTORAL." There stood the elme, whose shade so mildly dim The olive that in wainscot never cleans; The amorous vine which in the elme still weaves: For huswife's besoms only knowne most goode. The cold-place-loving birch, and servis-tree; The walnut loving vales, the mulberry. The maple, ashe, that doe delight in fountains, Which have their currents by the side of mountains. The laurell, mirtle, ivy, date, which hold Their leaves all winter, be it ne'er so cold. The firre, that often times doth rosins drop; The beach that scales the welkin with his top. By all the industry of nature strove To frame an arbour that might keep within it, WILLIAM BROWNE, 1590-1645. OF THE SEMINARY, AND OF TRANSPLANTING. FROM THE SILVA." Qui Vineas vel Arbustum constituere volet, Seminaria prius facere debebit, was the precept of Columella (de Arb., cap. 1), speaking of vineyards and fruit-trees; and doubtless we can not pursue a better course for the propagation of timber-trees. For though it seem but a trivial design, that one should make a nursery of foresters; yet it is not to be imagined, without the experience of it, what prodigious numbers a very small spot of ground, well-cultivated, and destined for this purpose, would be able to furnish toward the sending forth of yearly colonies into all the naked quarters of a lordship, or demesne; being, with a pleasant industry, liberally distributed among the tenants, and disposed about the hedge-rows, and other waste and uncultivated places for timber, shelter, fuel, and ornament, to an incredible advantage. This being a cheap and laudable work, of so much pleasure in the execution, and so certain a profit in the event, when once well done (for, as I affirmed, a very small plantarium, or nursery, will, in a few years, stock a vast extent of ground), has made me sometimes in admiration at the universal negligence; as well as raised my admiration, that seeds and plants of such different kinds, should, like so many tender babes and infants suck and thrive at the same breasts; though there are some, indeed, will not so well prosper in company, requiring peculiar juices. But this niceness is more conspicuous in flowers and the herbaceous offspring, than in foresters, which require only diligent weeding and frequent cleansing, till they are able to shift for themselves; and as their vessels enlarge and introduce more copious nourishment, they often starve their neighbors. JOHN EVELYN, 1628–1706. ; WINDSOR FOREST. The groves of Eden, vanish'd now so long, And where, though all things differ, all agree. Here waving groves a checker'd scant display, That, crown'd with tufted trees and fringing corn, Let India boast her plants, nor envy we The weeping amber or the balmy tree, While by our oaks the precious loads are borne ALEXANDER POPE, 1688-1744. FAIRLOP. In a glade of Hainhault forest, in Essex, about a mile from Barkinside, stands an oak, which has been known through many centuries by the name of Fairlop. The traditions of the country trace it half way up the Christian era. It is still a noble tree, though it has now suffered greatly from the depredations of time. About a yard from the ground, where its rough, fluted stem is thirty-six feet in circumference, it divides into eleven arms; yet not in the horizontal manner of an oak, but rather in that of a beech. Beneath its shade, which overspreads an area of three hundred feet in circuit, an annual fair has long been held, on the 2d of July; and no booth is suffered to be erected beyond the extent of its boughs. But as their extremities are now become sapless, and age is yearly curtailing their length, the liberties of the fair seem to be in a desponding con lition. The honor however is great. But honors are often accompanied with inconveniences; and Fairlop has suffered |