JUNE. 161 



They are gone ! The light tints of young foliage, 

 so pure, so tender, so spiritual, are vanished. What 

 the poet applied to the end of summer, is realized 

 now ; 



It is the season when the green delight 



Of leafy luxury begins to fade, 



And leaves are changing hourly on the sight. 



BARTON, 



A duller and darker uniformity of green has spread 

 over the hedges ; and we behold in the forest trees 

 the farewell traces of spring. They indeed exhibit 

 a beautiful variety. The oak has " spread its amber 

 leaves out in the sunny sheen ;" the ash has unfolded 

 its more cerulean drapery ; the maple, beech, and 

 sycamore are clad in most delicate vestures ; and 

 even the dark perennial firs are enlivened by young 

 shoots and cones of lighter green. Our admiration 

 of the foliage of trees would rise much higher, did 

 we give it a more particular attention. I have 

 frequently in autumn gathered under the trees, 

 leaves of the Spanish, or sweet chestnut, more than 

 a foot in length. The leaves of the horse-chestnut 

 too are superb. Passing through a wood with a 

 friend, we broke off one without thinking much of 

 what we were doing, but, being immediately struck 

 with its size and beauty, we found, on trial, that it 

 measured no less than one yard and three quarters 

 round, and the leaf and foot-stalk three quarters of 

 a yard in length, presenting a natural handscreen of 

 unrivalled elegance of shape. It is now too that 

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