42 SYLVAN SKETCHES. 



Of all the many winds and waters round, 



As o'er the mossy stones they swiftly stole, 



Poured forth in melancholy song his soul 



Of sorrow ; with a fall 



So sweet, and aye so wildly musical, 



None could have thought that she, whose seeming guile 



Had caused his anguish, absent was the while, 



But that in very deed the unhappy youth 



Did, face to face, upbraid her questioned truth." 



WIFFEN'S Garcilasso. 

 " Under the branches of this Beech we flung 



Our limbs at ease, and our bent bows unstrung. 



Thus idly lying, we inspired with zest 



The sweet fresh spirit breathing from the west. 



The flowers with which the mosses were inlaid 



A rich diversity of hues displayed, 



And yielded scents as various ; in the sun, 



Lucid as glass, this clear shrill fountain shone, 



Revealing in its depth the sands like gold, 



And smooth white pebbles whence its waters rolled." 



The same. 

 " I ran to meet you, as the traveller 



Gets from the sun under a shady Beech." 



HUNT, from THEOCRITUS. 



The Beech has been celebrated more, perhaps, than 

 any other tree, as the lover's tablet. Shepherds, in old 

 times, carved the stories of their loves, their songs, their 

 mistresses' names, and their tender lamentations, on the 

 bark of the living tree, or on strips of bark, which served 

 them for paper : 



" Immo haec in viridi nuper quae cortice fagi 

 Carmina descripsi, et modulans alterna notavi, 

 Experiar." VIRGIL, Eclogue v. 



" Or shall I rather the sad verse repeat, 

 Which on the Beech's bark I lately writ ; 

 1 writ, and sang betwixt ?" DRYJDEN'S Translation. 



