WOOD SORREL. 83 



And tliose little flowers which grow there, 

 beside the waters, have they no language 

 in which to body forth the wonders of their 

 creation : speaking to the mind concerning 

 the tale which each one telleth of things 

 hidden from the eye of him who cares 

 not for them ? Assuredly they have. And 

 the botanist, as well as poet, has his own 

 peculiar sources of delight. Wherever his 

 wanderings may conduct him, amid the lone- 

 liness and greenness of a secluded valley, 

 over moorlands, or through cultivated fields, 

 he is equally at home. In all the changes 

 of the seasons, and in every vicissitude of 

 climate, he meets with friends, whom suc- 

 cessive years have brought to his acquaint- 

 ance, and who, though silent to the casual 

 observer, are ever eloquent to liim. 



The ^\'ild sorrel is a favourite among ma- 

 tin flowers, because its place of growth is 

 ever amid scenes to which the mmd recurs 



