TEEES, EVERGREENS, AND SHRUBS, 19 



covered with white, purple, and golden bloom, make the 

 very heart leap up with admiration. 



" Come forth, and let us through our hearts receive 

 The joy of verdure ! See, the honied lime 

 Showers cool green light o'er banks where wild-flowers weave 

 Thick tapestry ; and woodbine tendrils climb 

 Up the brown oak, from beds of moss and thyme ; 

 The rich deep masses of the sycamore 

 Hang heavy with the fulness of their prime ; 

 And the white poplar, from its foliage hoar, 

 Scatters forth gleams like moonlight with each gale 

 That sweeps the boughs ; the chestnut flowers are past, 

 The crowning glories of the hawthorn fail. 

 But arches of sweet eglantine are cast 

 From every hedge. Oh ! never may we lose, 

 Dear friend, our fresh delight in simplest nature's hues !" 



I know few saunters more enjoyable than one along by 

 a hedgerow in spring ; and when, as you pause and linger 

 in delight over the rich clusters of the hawthorn blossom, 

 a breeze passes, and the ground is whitened with the frail 

 flowers, do not the words of our Saviour come home to 

 the heart — " If God so clothe the grass of the field, which 

 to-day is, and to-morrow is cast into the oven, shall He not 

 nmcli more clothe you, O ye of little faith 1 " 



In summer every one values a tree for its shade, as well 

 as for its beauty ; but the latter quality comes more into 

 notice in autumn, when, even in this country, there is 

 colouring bright enough to give us some idea of the much 

 boasted-of American "fall." To the real lover of trees, 

 however, their interest does not entirely depart even when 

 " Mart'mas winds " have blown the beautj^ out of the land- 



