330 THE LOMBAKDY POPLAR. 



these ancient rows of poplars are occasionally seen in old 

 fields where almost all traces of the habitation they accom- 

 panied are gone. There is a melancholy pleasure in sur- 

 veying these humble ruins, whose history would illustrate 

 many of the domestic habits of our ancestors. The cel- 

 lar of the old house is now a part of the pasture land ; 

 and its form may be dimly traced by an angular depres- 

 sion of the surface. Sumachs and cornel-bushes have 

 supplanted the exotic shrubbery in the old garden ; and 

 the only ancient companions of the Poplar now remain- 

 ing are a few straggling lilacs, some tufts of houseleek, 

 and perhaps, under the shade of a dilapidated fence, the 

 white Star of Bethlehem is seen meekly glowing in the 

 rude society of the wild flowers. 



But the Lornbardy Poplar, once a favorite wayside orna- 

 ment, a sort of idol of the public, and, like many another 

 idol, exalted to honors beyond its merits, fell suddenly into 

 contempt and neglect. After having been admired by 

 every eye, it was spurned and ridiculed, and cut down in 

 many places as a cumberer of the ground. The faults 

 attributed to it were not specific defects of the tree, but 

 were caused by a climate uncongenial to its nature. It 

 was brought from the sunny clime of Italy, where it 

 had flourished by the side of the orange and myrtle 

 and transplanted to the snowy plains of New Englan<. 

 The tender habit of the tree made it incapable of en- 

 during our winters ; and every spring witnessed the <e- 

 cay of many of its small branches. It became prema- 

 turely aged, and in its decline carried with it the mfks 

 of its infirmities. 



With all these imperfections, it was more wortlf of 

 the honors it received from our predecessors than -f its 

 present neglect. It is one of the fairest of trees -i the 

 greenness of its youth, far surpassing any other polar in 

 its shape and in the density and general beaut; of its 



