The Hawthorn. 
57 
When music from the feathered throng 
Breaks forth in merry marriage song, 
And mountain streamlets dash along, 
Like molten diamonds glancing ! 
Oh! pleasant’t is to scan the page, 
Rich with the theme of bygone age, 
When motley fool and learned sage 
Brought garlands for the gay pole; 
When laugh and shout came ringing out 
From courtly knight and peasant lout, 
In ‘ Hurrah for merry England, and the raising of the Maypole!’ 
When the good old times had carol rhymes, 
With morris games and village chimes ; 
When clown and priest shared cup and feast, 
And the greatest jostled with the least, 
At the ‘raising of the Maypole!’ ” Eliza Cook. 
This fragrant favourite of English poets is well worthy of its 
reputation : its beauty and perfume are alike unsurpassed by 
any of earth’s “ gemmy flowers,” as Poe calls her floral decora¬ 
tions ; and truly we may style it the loveliest flower of the 
loveliest month—it is, indeed, the scented diadem of the year. 
Well may Shakspeare make Henry VI. ask : 
“ Gives not the hawthorn-bush a sweeter shade 
To shepherds, looking on their silly sheep, 
Than doth a rich embroidered canopy 
To kings?” 
Milton has also remarked the adaptability of this bush for 
sheltering shepherds : 
“And every shepherd tells his tale 
Under the hawthorn in the dale.” 
And then comes Goldsmith to speak of other tales told 
beneath its shade ; for, whereas the author of “ L’Allegro ” 
only intends to represent his shepherd as counting his sheep, 
the author of the “ Deserted Village ” talks of fonder themes : 
“The hawthorn-bush, with seats beneath the shade, 
For talking age and whispering lovers made! 
How often have I blessed the coming day, 
When toil remitting lent its turn to play, 
And all the village train, from labour free, 
Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree, 
While many a pastime circled in the shade, 
The young contending, as the old surveyed.” 
How longingly we await the unfolding of the May-blossom 
