HIS is the forest primeval. THE 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. Who doth ambition shun And loves to live i' the sun, And pleas'd with what he gets, 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; 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. 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, 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 condition. The honor however is great. But honors are often accompanied with inconveniences; and Fairlop has suffered from its distinctions. In the feasting that attends the fair, fires are often necessary;, and no places seemed so proper to make them in, as the hollow cavities formed by the heaving roots of the tree. This practice has brought a speedier decay on Fairlop than it might otherwise have suffered. WILLIAM GILPIN, 1724-1807. AN OLD OAK. FROM COWPER'S LETTERS. Since your departure I have twice visited the oak, with an intention of pushing my inquiries a mile beyond it, where it seems I should have found another oak, much larger, and much more respectable than the former; but once I was hindered by the rain, and once by the sultriness of the day. This latter oak has been known by the name of "Judith" many ages, and is said to have been an oak at the time of the Conquest. If I have not an opportunity to reach it before your arrival here, we will attempt that exploit together, and even if I should have been able to visit it ere you come, I shall yet be glad to do so, for the pleasure of extraordinary sights, like all other pleasures, is doubled by the participation of a friend. W. CowPER.-Letter to S. Rose, Esq., Sept. 11, 1788. YARDLEY OAK. Survivor sole, and hardly such, of all It seems idolatry with some excuse, Of amnesty, the meed of blood divine, |