THE COWSLIP. 
I 
remembrance the remarks of an elegant transatlantic 
writer, on “ the rural feeling which runs through Bri- 
tish literature, continued down from ( the Floure and 
Leafe’ of Chaucer to the present day. The pastoral 
writers of other countries,” says he, “ appear as if they 
had paid nature an occasional visit, and become ac¬ 
quainted with her general charms ; but the British poets 
have wooed her in her most secret haunts. A spray 
could not tremble in the breeze, a leaf could not rustle 
to the ground, a fragrance could not exhale from the 
humble violet, nor a daisy unfold its crimson tints to 
the morning, but it has been noticed by these impas¬ 
sioned and delicate observers, and wrought into some 
beautiful morality.” 
B 4 
