And Clare, the Northamptonshire poet, al¬ 
ludes to its ungrateful qualities injsome lines 
on the “ Eternity of Nature ; ” detailing his 
morning’s walk, he says, — 
I wander out and rhyme ; 
What hour the dewy morning’s infancy 
Hangs on each blade of grass and every tree, 
And sprents the red thighs of the humble bee, 
Who ’gins betimes unwearied minstrelsy 
Who breakfasts, dines, and most divinely sups 
With every flower save golden buttercups, — 
On whose proud bosoms he will never go, 
But passes by with scarcely “How do ye do, ” 
Since in their showy, shining, gaudy cells, 
Haply the summer’s honey never dwells. 
INJUSTICE. 
HOP. 
This plant will grow only in rich soils. 
It is called lupulus by naturalists ; and, ac¬ 
cording to Pliny, was so named because it 
grew among the willows; to them, by twining 
round and choking them up, it proved as de¬ 
structive as the wolf to the flock. 
