“ POMA QUOQUE UT PRIMUM TRUNCOS SENSERE VALENTES. 
Et vires habuere suas ad sidera raptim 
Vi propria nituntur, opisque haud indiga nostrae. 
Nec minus interea fetu nemus omne gravescit, 
Sanguineisque incult a rubent AVI aria baccis.” 
Virgil George II, 426-30. 
“ Fruit trees moreover, soon as they have known 
The vigour of the stock become their own, 
Push jostling upwards by their native powers, 
To starry Heaven, and ask no help of ours ; 
Nor less the wild grove bows its fruitful head, 
And thorny bird-homes blush with berries red.” 
Richard Doddridge RIakcmore, p. 58. 
Eh ! QUI SAIT quels succes attendent vos travaux ! 
Combien l’art parmi nous conquit de fruits nouveaux; 
Dans nos champs etonnes, que de metamorphoses ! 
DHomme des Champs. Delille , 1800. 
“ Who knows what victories await your toils, 
What fruits yet new shall be your bloodless spoils, 
With what amazement shall our fields behold 
Changes undreamt of, marvels yet untold !” 
Rev. T. Woodhouse. 
