smooth beneath ; sheaths very long, especially those of the leaves 
which rise highest, as they all run down to the base of the stem. 
Umbel large, terminal, accompanied by an involucrum of 4 or 5 
leaves, one of which is often nearly or quite 2 feet long. Peduncles 
triangular, smooth, the outer one about 6 inches long, the rest 
gradually shorter, each with a sheathing bractea at its base. Pedi- 
cels ( partial flower-stalks J slender, triangular, smooth, from the 
8th of an inch to an inch long, subtended by small bracteas. Spike- 
lets shining brown, narrow, upright, 5 or 6 together, loosely spread- 
ing in two directions. Stigmas 3. 
This is a very graceful plant, and is found wild in France, Germany, Italy, 
Sicilv, and Carniola, as well as in Britain. The root has a pleasant aromatic 
smell, and a warm bitter taste ; but it is not used medicinally, though Dr. 
IV n her i ng says, perhaps it is not inferior to some more costly medicines 
biought from abroad. 
“ From earliest childhood I have ever found 
Companionship in flowers, and shall methinks 
Until my dying day. They seem, fair things, 
(At least when Fancy gifts them with her spell) 
To understand and share my every mood 
More readily than creatures rational. 
If glad of heart, they give me smile for smile. 
If sorrowful, they yield me solace sweet, 
Or if to holier thoughts my heart incline. 
They never check, like the cold scorning world, 
My heavenly aspirations, but at once 
Take up a serious, monitory strain, 
And preach sweet homilies more touching far 
Than often flow from learned doctor’s tongue. 
Next to that Book which shows to guilty man 
How he, through mercy infinite, may gain 
More than he lost in Eden, I do rank, 
And justly so, sweet nature’s varied lore, 
For well it seconds many a glorious truth 
■Which in that better record stands reveal’d. 
The furious hurricane that rends the heavens. 
And makes the scared and desolated earth 
Reel like a drunkard, the resistless flood, 
The barren waste, nay, e’en the very thorn 
Which wounds our finger when we pluck the flower. 
And noxious weed that ‘ mocks the hope of toil,’ 
Ho all attest one truth, man’s foul revolt. 
The changing seasons, winter’s death-like reign. 
So soon succeeded by the bloom of spring, 
What are they but the types of man’s decease 
And resurrection ? The blithe birds which build 
Beneath our cottage eaves, — the smiling flowers 
Which decorate the hedgerow and the mead. 
Do they not mind us to repose our trust 
On Him, who feeds and clothes them day by day 1 
What says the lip of Wisdom ? * Mark the fowls. 
Which neither sow, nor reap, nor store in barns. 
And yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. 
Consider too the lilies, how they grow, 
They neither toil nor spin, and yet I say 
That Solomon in all his glorious pomp 
Was not array’d like these. Wherefore if Cod 
Thus clothes the grass, so soon to pass away, 
And feed the fowls of heaven, shall He not then 
Much rather for your daily wants provide, 
O ye of little faith V ” 
From Recollections of the Lakes, by the author of 
the “ Moral of Flowers.” 
