PORTUGUESE CANZONET.

OF CAXOENS.

Flowers are fresh, and bushes green,

Cheerily the linnets sing ;
Winds are soft, and skies serene;
Time, however, soon shall throw,

Winter's snow,
O’er the buxom breast of spring!

Hope that buds in lover's heart,

Lives not through the scorn of years;
Time makes love itself depart;
Time and scorn congeal the mind-

Looks unkind-
Freeze affection's warmest tears.

Time shall make the bushes green;

Time dissolve the winter snow;
Winds be soft, and skies serene;
Linnets sing their wonted strain.

But again,

Blighted love shall never blow! Translated by VISCOUNT STRANGFORD.

LUIS DE CAMÕENS, 1524-1579.

XII.

The forest.

FROM " KVANGELINE,"

THIS is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks,

Stand like Druids of old, with voices sad and prophetic,
Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.
Loud from its rocky caverns the deep-voiced neighboring ocean
Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest.

H. W. LONGFELLOW.

SONG.

Under the greenwood tree
Who loves to lie with me,
And tune his merry note

Unto the sweet bird's throat,
Come hither, come hither, come hither;

There shall he see

No enemy,
But winter and rough weather.

There stood the elme, whose shade so mildly dim
Doth nourish all that groweth under him;
Cipresse that like piramids rune topping,
And hurt the least of any by their dropping,
The alder whose fat shadow nourisheth,
Each plant set neere to him long flourisheth.
The heavy-headed plane-tree, by whose shade
The grasse grows thickest, men are fresher made.
The oake, that best endures the thunder-shocks;
The everlasting ebene, cedar, boxe;
The olive that in wainscot never cleans ;
The amorous vine which in the elme still weaves ;
The lotus, juniper, where worms ne'er enter;
The pyne, with whom men through the ocean venter;
The war-like yeugh, by which (more than the lance)
The strong-armd English spirits conquer'd France.
Among the rest the tamariske there stoode
For huswife's besoms only knowne most goode.
The cold-place-loving birch, and servis-tree;

walnut loving vales, the mulberry.
The maple, ashe, that doe delight in fountains,
Which have their currents by the side of mountains.
The laurell, mirtle, ivy, date, which hold
Their leaves all winter, be it ne'er so cold.
The firre, that often times doth rosins drop;
The beach that scales the welkin with his top.
All these, and thousand more, within this grove,
By all the industry of nature strove
To frame an arbour that might keep within it,
The best of beauties that the world hath in it.

WILLIAM BROWX5, 1590-1645. OF THE SEMINARY, AND OF TRANSPLANTING.

FROM "THE SILVA."

Qui Vineas vel Arbustum constituere volet, Seminaria prius facere debebit, was the precept of Columella (de Arb., cap. 1), speaking of vineyards and fruit-trees; and doubtless we can not pursue a better course for the propagation of timber-trees. For though it seem but a trivial design, that one should make a nursery of foresters; yet it is not to be imagined, without the experience of it, what prodigious numbers a very small spot of ground, well-cultivated, and destined for this purpose, would be able to furnish toward the sending forth of yearly colonies into all the naked quarters of a lordship, or demesne; being, with a pleasant industry, liberally distributed among the tenants, and disposed about the hedge-rows, and other waste and uncultivated places for timber, shelter, fuel, and ornament, to an incredible advantage. This being a cheap and laudable work, of so much pleasure in the execution, and so certain a profit in the event, when once well done (for, as I affirmed, a very small plantarium, or nursery, will, in a few years, stock a vast extent of ground), has made me sometimes in admiration at the universal negligence; as well as raised my admiration, that seeds and plants of such different kinds, should, like so many tender babes and infants suck and thrive at the same breasts; though there are some, indeed, will not so well prosper in company, requiring peculiar juices. But this niceness is more conspicuous in flowers and the herbaceous offspring, than in foresters, which require only diligent weeding and frequent cleansing, till they are able to shift for themselves; and as their vessels enlarge and introduce more copious nourishment, they often starve their neighbors.

Join EveLyx, 1628-1706.

WINDSOR FOREST.

ز

The groves of Eden, vanish'd now so long,
Live in description and look green in song;
These, were my breast inspir’d with equal flame,
Like them in beauty, should be like in fame.
Here hills and vales, the woodland and the plain,
Here earth and water seem to strive again!
Not chaos-like, together crush'd and bruis’d,
But as the world, harmoniously confus'd;
Where order in variety we see,
And where, though all things differ, all agree.

Here waving groves a checker'd scant display,
And part admit, and part exclude the day ;
As some coy nymph her lover's warm address,
Nor quite indulges, nor can quite repress.
There interspers’d in lawns and op’ning glatles,
Thin trees arise that shun each other's shalles;
There, in full light, the russet plains extend ;
There, wrapt in clouds, the bluish hills extend.
Ev'n the wild heath displays her purple dyes,
And ’midst the desert fruitful fields arise,
That, crown'd with tufted trees and fringing corn,
Like verdant isles, the sable waste adorn.
Let India boost her plants, nor envy we
The weeping amber or the balmy tree,
While by our oaks the precious loads are borne
And realms commanded which those trees acorn.
Not proud Olympus yields a nobler sight,
Though gods assembled grace his tow’ring height,
Than what more humble mountains offer here,
Where, in their blessings, all those gods appear.
See Pan, with flocks, with fruits Pomone crown'd;
There blushing Flora paints th' enameld ground,
Here Ceres' gifts in waving prospect stand,
And nodding tempt the joyful reaper's hand;
Rich Industry sits smiling on the plains,
And peace and plenty tell a Stuart reigns.

ALEXANDER POPE, 1688-17 H.

FAIRLOP.

In a glade of Hainhault forest, in Essex, about a mile from Barkinside, stands an oak, which has been known through many centuries by the name of Fairlop. The traditions of the country trace it half way up the Christian era. It is still a noble tree, though it has now suffered greatly from the depredations of time. About a yard from the ground, where its rough, fluted stem is thirty-six feet in circumference, it diviides into eleven arms; yet not in the horizontal manner of an oak, but rather in that of a beech. Beneath its shade, which overspreads an area of three hundred feet in circuit, an annual fair has long been held, on the 2d of July; and no booth is suffered to be erected beyond the extent of its boughs. But as their extremities are now become sapless, and age is yearly curtailing their length, the liberties of the fair seem to be in a despon ling con lition. The honor however is great. But honors are often accompanied with inconveniences; and Fairlop bas suffered