THE 
SPIRIT OF THE WOODS. 
THE OAK. 
QUERCUS ROBUR. 
“ Happy Britannia! 
Rich is thy soil, and merciful thy clime; 
Unmatch’d thy guardian oaks.” 
The oak is the glory of the British sylva. What the 
palm is to the tribes of the desert, and the banian to 
the inhabitants of the East, such is the oak to Britons. 
It is our citadel, the basis of our strength; and whilst 
we possess it, 
“ Britannia needs no bulwark, 
No towers along her steep; 
ITcr march is o’er the mountain waves, 
Her home is on the deep. 
* 
B 
