316 SYLVAN SKETCHES. 



To and fro with the wind, I stay to listen, 



And fancy to myself that a sad voice, 



Praying, comes moaning through the leaves, as 'twere 



For some misdeed." 



Marcelia. 



This music is celebrated by Moschus in a beautiful 

 little piece translated by L. Hunt : 



" But when the deeps are moved, and the waves come 

 Shuddering along, and tumbling into foam, 

 I turn to earth, which trusty seems, and staid, 

 And love to get into a greenwood shade ; 

 In which the pines, although the winds be strong, 

 Can turn the bluster to a sylvan song*." 



Mr. Hunt praises the voice of the Pine in an original 

 poem also : 



" And then there fled by me a rush of air 

 That stirred up all the other foliage there, 

 Filling the solitude with panting tongues ; 

 At which the pines woke up into their songs, 

 Shaking their choral locks ; and on the place 

 There fell a shade as on an awe-struck face ; 

 And overhead, like a portentous rim 

 Pulled over the wide world, to make all dim, 

 A grave gigantic cloud came hugely uplifting him." 



Nymphs t." 



Ovid represents the Cyclops, who lived on the coast of 

 Sicily as carrying a lofty Pine-tree by way of walking- 

 stick; and tells us that Ceres bore a flaming pine, 

 plucked from Mount Etna, in each hand, to assist her 



* Hunt's Foliage Evergreens, p. 78. 

 t Ibid. p. 24. 



