lays on flowers, will not less tavourably regard 
her sylvan musings. 
The transition seemed natural and easy from 
the flower which decks the greensward to the 
tree that shelters it. The main difficulty was 
how to vary the reflections and imagery suffi¬ 
ciently in subjects so nearly allied; to effect 
which, as far as possible, the author has in many 
instances introduced the tree incidentally, in¬ 
stead of making it the sole burden of the poem. 
Of all inanimate objects, trees are the most 
companionable. Every breath of air makes them 
vocal, and they “discourse most eloquent music,” 
apparently adapting their tones to the mood of 
the listener. Is he sorrowful?—they seem to 
share his sadness; is he joyous?— to partake his 
mirth; is he religious ?—his devotion. For him 
there is not only “pleasure,” but society, “in 
the pathless woods;” for he peoples them with 
“ calling shapes,” 
“ And airy tongues that syllable men’s names. ” 
How beautiful is a wooded landscape! Be the 
season what it may, trees always excite admir- 
