THE COMMON BROOM. 
65 
Evelyn speaks of the broom as growing to an in¬ 
credible height in the western parts of France and in 
Cornwall; but we are better acquainted with it as a 
shrub of moderate size, forming the chief embellishment 
of waste broken ground, knolls and thickets. It has 
ever been a favourite with the rural muse; Burns, 
Thomson, and Cowper, among others, have each « given 
m charge its name to the sweet lyre;” and in the songs 
of our earlier bards it has a very prominent station. 
Broom, says the editor of Scottish songs, « flourishes 
frequently m old verse. It has been employed largely 
m lovers’ bowers; and though its bloom and its fra¬ 
grance have yielded to birks and hawthorn, it seems 
still the most sweet and natural bower that lyric poetry 
celebrates. This very fair and beautiful shrub,” he 
adds, “ though still plentiful, is far less abundant than 
formerly. I remember it in immense fields, Avaving 
nearly as far as the eye could reach, green, and long, 
and blooming; and in a windy day all the land nelr 
it was showered thickly over with its yellow flowers.” 
The broom, however, is not connected merely with 
pastoral images, but with historical associations of no 
common interest. Gefroi, Duke of Anjou, father of 
Henry the Second, chose it for his badge, and fre¬ 
quently wore a sprig of it in his cap; and from this 
F 
