STATE POMOLOGICAL SOCIETY. 105 



They are but samples of my varied store, 

 And richer gifts await those who explore." 



Again, 1 turn to scenes of long ago, 

 A company are battling winter's snow; 

 Cold and bleak their home on Plymouth shore 

 Within the sound of the Atlantic's roar. 

 No outward beauty now adorns their lives 

 Save only that which stern religion gives. 

 The spring-time flowers awake no tender thrill, 

 And slight the joys that in their life instil. 



Now this is changed; along your village streets 

 Many a fair picture now my vision greets. 

 The changeful lamplight in the evening hours 

 Shines brightly tiirough a foliage of flowers. 

 The windows bar the winter's icy chill ; 

 AVithin is summer sweetness reigning still, 

 That robs the monarch, ever stern and cold, 

 Of half his terrors, and breaks his icy hold. 

 And man now resting from his laboring hours 

 With ever grateful heart, thanks God for flowers. 



In olden days, the Latin term for home 

 Was an abode, a dwelling place alone. 

 It might be in the country fair and wide. 

 Or in the town, washed by the river's tide. 

 A cave or tent upon the hillside bare ; 

 Or if in town, perhaps a cottage fair. 

 Where'er a family lodged was called its home. 

 And thus a sacred ness around this spot did come. 

 For old English laws hold, even to this day, 

 Man's home his castle is, both strong and gray ; 

 That none may enter there unless he gives consent, 

 For civil pi'ocess, or for their own intent. 

 Our dear word home, round which a halo lies. 

 Is from the Saxon ; and it signifies 

 An object sacred, and covered from the eyes ; 

 A quiet and retirement, likewise the term implies. 

 Ln sunny France this prevalent idea 

 Is not so prominent as with us here. 

 Not much of true home life the Parisian enjoys ; 

 The city's gayeties his time and mind employs. 

 In restaurants, he eats his food with zest ; 

 In lodging rooms, he seeks his needed rest. 

 In classic daj^s few people owned a home. 

 A million souls once walked the streets of Rome. 

 Of this vast number we are truly told 

 Only two thousand their homes controlled. 



