;3;J 
But though the beech lias generally been the depository 
of the lover’s secret, it need not be exclusively his; 
affection, in whatever guise it comes, may be allowed 
the same privilege: shall I then the 
__« verse repeat. 
Which lately on the beech's hark I writ; 
1 writ, and sang between ?” 
I have been wandering in the wood 
Where wither’d leaves my path were strewing; 
And winds, with ire but half subdued, 
Seem’d to a future tempest growing. 
Yet, ’mid these symbols of decay, 
My mind was only tun’d to gladness: 
And why ? — It is our wedding day; 
What, then, have I to do with sadness ? 
I sat me down beneath a tree, — 
That tree so famed for lover’s ditty, 
When he would try by each fond plea 
To move his mistress’ soul to pity. 
D 
