FLIGHT OF THE WOOD-NYMPHS. 327 



them, and afterwards " laid down " to legitimate Eng- 

 lish grasses. The dandelion and buttercups were no 

 more to be seen in the spring, or the rank hawkweed in. 

 the autumn. Through this lawn neat gravel walks 

 were made, that visitors might stroll there in the morn- 

 ing without getting wet by the dews. Many of. the- 

 slopes were provided with marble steps, and here and! 

 there, in the centre of a clump of firs, was erected a 

 marble statue to emblemize some one of the rurall 

 deities. 



But where stands the idol, there we may not feel the- 

 presence of the deity. In vain do we strive to com- 

 pensate nature, when we have despoiled her of her 

 original charms, by calling in the aid of the sculptor, 

 whose lifeless productions serve only to chill the imagi- 

 nation that might otherwise revel among the wizard 

 creations of poetry. The images of Ceres, of Galatea, 

 or of the heavenly huntress, were not attractive to the 

 beings whom they were intended to represent. The 

 naiad no longer sat by her fountain, which was held in 

 a marble basin, and sent up its luminous spray, in the 

 midst of the costly works of art. The dryads had for- 

 saken the old wood, whose moss-grown trees were 

 deprived of their variegated undergrowth, and of the 

 native drapery that hung from their boughs. They 

 wept over the exiled bird and the perished flowers of 

 the wild wood, and fled sorrowfully to some new and 

 distant haunts. The nymphs who used to frequent 

 these shady retreats had also fled. Woods, groves, 

 hills, and valleys were all deserted ; and the cold, lifeless 

 forms that were carved out of marble stood there alone, 

 the mere symbols of charms that no longer existed. 



The village children, who formerly assembled here to 

 gather bouquets of wild roses, red summer lilies, andl 



