HA WTHORN. 



Miss Twamley writes : 



" Come, let us rest this Hawthorn-tree below, 

 And breathe its luscious fragrance ere it flies, 

 And watch the tiny petals as they fall 

 Circling and winnowing down our sylvan hall ; " 



and Elliott calls upon his friend, saying : 



" — walk with me where Hawthorns hide 

 The wonders of the lane ; " 



and all our poets are in harmony with respect to the charms 

 of the Hawthorn, and might join in Miss Taylor's words : 



" I love the pleasant Spring, when buds begin to push. 

 And flowers their nosegays bring to hang on every bush. 

 Till stores of May, with snowy bloom, 

 Fill the young hedgerows with perfume." 



The Troglodytes, whose simple manners remind us of the 

 golden age, used to cover the friends whom death had taken 

 with branches of Hawthorn, since they looked upon death as 

 the morning of a life where there would be no more parting. 

 Longfellow well expresses this idea : 



" There is no death ! what seems so is transition ; 

 This life of mortal breath is but a suburb of the life Elysian, 

 Whose portal we call death." 



At Athens, the fair young friends of a bride carried branches 

 of the Hawthorn at her nuptials ; and the altar of Hymen 

 was lighted up with torches made of the wood of this tree, 

 which has ever been regarded as the emblem of Hope. It 

 tells us of bright days at hand ; it held out to the beautiful 

 Greek the promise of happiness in marriage ; and to the 

 simple Troglodytes it spoke of life eternal. 



JOS 



