CHAPTER II. 



MOSSES. 



A small grey sisterhood of plodding lichens 

 Wrought on the rock ; the sun, the wind, and rain, 

 Helping them gladly, till, each fissure fill'd 

 And fit for planting, Mosses came in haste 

 And strewed small seeds among them, destined they 

 To clothe the stern old rock with softest verdure, 

 With ferns and flowers, where yet the labouring bee 

 May find her pasture. 



WE sit beside our sisters, the tiled lichens (said a gentle 

 voice, speaking from out a bed of moss), beautifying many 

 an herbless mass, and preparing, as years glide on, that 

 deposit of vegetable mould on which large plants may find 

 a resting-place. Unlike the generality of our vegetable 

 brethren, chill winter does not harm us, neither may 



