142 
I FEEL YOUR KINDNESS. 
I’ll call to mind, how — fresh and green, — 
I saw thee waking from the dust, 
Then turn to heaven with brow serene, 
And place in God my trust. 
I FEEL YOUR KINDNESS. 
FLAX. 
Then on the rock a scanty measure placed 
Of vital flax, and turned the wheel apace, 
And turning sung. dryden’s ovid. 
Truly we ought to he grateful to this use¬ 
ful plant! It yields us the linen we wear, 
the paper we write upon, and the lace which 
adorns our fair countrywomen. Nowhere can 
we cast our eyes but we see evidence of its 
utility. It has been cultivated from time 
immemorial for the lint and tow it affords, 
and it was formerly the chief occupation of 
our cottagers’ wives to spin this into yarn 
and linen cloth. It is grown pretty gene¬ 
rally in the Isle of Axholme, in Lincolnshire. 
Our Devonian bard, Carrington, mentions it 
in “Dartmoor,” where its cultivation has 
been attempted by Sir Thomas Tyrwhitt and 
others with partial success: — 
