88 FAMILIAR TREES 



Nor can this head-like nut, shaped like the brain 



Within, be said that form by chance to gain, 



Or Caryon called by learned Greeks in vain ; 



For membranes soft as silk her kernel bind, 



Whereof the inmost is of tenderest kind, 



Like those which on the brain of man we find. 



All which are in a seam-joined shell enclosed. 



Which of this brain the skull may be supposed. 



This very skull enveloped is again 



In a, green coat, her pericranium. 



Lastly, that no objection may remain 



To thwart her near alliance with the brain, 



She nourishes the hair, remembering how 



Herself deform'd without her leaves does show ; 



On barren scalps she makes fresh honours grow. 



Her timber is for various uses good ; 



The carver she supplies with useful wood. 



She makes the painter's fading colours last, 



A table she affords us, and repast ; 



E'en while we feast, her oil our lamp supplies ; 



The rankest poison by her virtues dies. 



The mad dog's foam, and taint of raging skies. 



The Pontic king, who "lived where poisons grew. 



Skilful in antidotes, her virtue knew. 



Yet envious fates, that still with merit strive, 



And man, ungrateful, from the orchard drive 



This sovereign plant; excluded from the field. 



Unless some useless nook a station yield, 



Defenceless in the common road she stands, 



Exposed to restless war of vulgar hands ; 



By neighbouring clowns and passing rabble torn, 



Batter'd with stones by boys, and left forlorn.'' 



