MAY. 129 



many places. The mowing-grass presents a mosaic 

 of the most gorgeous and inimitable hues, or is white 

 with waving umbels. A passing gale awakens a 

 scene of lively animation. The massy foliage of 

 trees swings heavily, the boughs of the hawthorn 

 wave with all their loads of fragrant bloom, and 

 snowy umbelliferous plants toss on the lea like foam 

 on the stormy ocean. Now, sweet Poesy, 



Let thy happy votary roam, 

 For the green earth is his home, 

 When the tree-tops are besnowcd 

 With the blossoms' gorgeous load, 

 And the forest's verdant pall 

 Shrouds the missel in her hall ; 

 In the hawthorn's pleasant boughs, 

 Where a thousand blithe birds house. 

 When the meadows are brimful 

 Of all flowers that children pull, 

 Saxifrages, cardamines, 

 Kingcup which in deep gold shines ; 

 Dandelion with globe of down, 

 The schoolboy's clock in every town, 

 Which the truant puffs amain 

 To conjure lost hours back again. 

 Then, 'tis then I love to meet 

 Thy true son's wayfaring feet, 

 As I have, ere now, descried 

 By the thundrous falls of Clyde; 

 Or where bright Loch Katrine fills 

 Such a space between such hills, 

 As no lake beside it may, 

 Since Eden's waters passed away. 



W.H. 



Cottage gardens are now perfect paradises; and, 



