114 MAY. 



Wayfaring tree ! what ancient claim 

 Hast thou to that right pleasant name ? 

 Was it that some faint pilgrim came 



Unhopedly to thee, 

 In the brown desert's weary way, 

 ."Mid toil and thirst's consuming sway, 

 And there, as 'neath thy shade he lay, 



Blest the wayfaring tree 1 



Or is it that thou lov'st to show 

 Thy coronals of fragrant snow, 

 Like life's spontaneous joys that flow 



In paths by thousands beat 1 

 Whate'er it be, I love it well ; 

 A name, methinks, that surely fell 

 From poet, in some evening dell, 



Wandering with fancies sweet. 



A name given in those olden days, 

 When, mid the wild-wood's vernal sprays, 

 The merle and mavis poured their lays 



In the lone listener's ear, 

 Like songs of an enchanted land, 

 Sung sweetly to some fairy band, 

 Listening with doffed helms in each hand 



In some green hollow near. 



W.H. 



Rye is in ear at the end of the month. This 

 too is the bentmy time of pigeons. After the 

 spring-corn lias vegetated, until the harvest, 

 they are driven to immature seeds and green 

 panicles of the grasses for subsistence, and are 

 seen in large flocks in pasture fields, where they 



