THE way-faring tree is a native of most countries of Europe, those only excepted which are situated far to the north. It is found chiefly on a limestone soil in woods and hedges, but is said to delight most of all in the vicinity of roads. It puts forth its many-flowered cymes, in scent resembling the hawthorn, towards the middle of May, and perfects its berries in autumn, which in an immature state are red on the outside and yellow on the other, but which when fully ripe are quite black. This tree belongs to a genus containing many species, of which the favourite little winter-flowering shrub laurustinus is one, and the well-known elder another. A very elegant variety may be met with in almost every ornamental plantation. Who is not familiar with the garden guelder-rose, or snowball, which when in bloom harmonises so well with all the gayer shrubs of spring? How beautifully descriptive of its general appearance and mode of growth are these lines by Cowper, where, however, he groups it with more sombre associates; for he speaks of it, as It has also been sketched by the elegant pen of Miss Landon : "Here the guelder rose shall fling Silver treasures to the spring." But to return to our homely subject. The way-faring tree is partly indebted to its name for popularity; not but that its pretty fragrant flowers might justly entitle it to regard; but many a flowering shrub as pretty and as fragrant we pass without notice, whilst this always obtains a share of observation. Who gave it this appellation, and wherefore, is left to poetical conjecture; but whatever may have suggested the trivial names of this, and other plants, we are indebted to them for many a pleasant and it may be improving reflection. They supply a text on which the mind delights to make its own comments; and there is scarcely an affection or feeling of which the heart is conscious, that may not be in some degree called into exercise by an acquaintance with the habits, properties, and names of the various productions of the vegetable kingdom. Hail! sportive Fancy, visionary Power, Didst thou descend upon the earliest ra And smiled on Nature's birth? Say, wert thou cradled in the first fair rose And with superior loveliness arose To reign the queen of flow'rs? And wert thou rock'd by each soft gale, whose wing Caught the rich scent that new-born rose did fling O'er Eden's blissful bowers? Or didst thou spring in after years From that fair bow which spann'd the skies, First gemm'd the falling drops with dyes She gazed upon the vision-gazed and smiled. Whate'er thy origin may be, Sweet Fancy, thou art dear to me; I stray, or pierce the forest-shade; Until I feel, and hear, and see To cultured vale, or barren hill. Or dewdrop gem the bloomy spray, - and so it The wanderer's friend; It greets him on his toilsome way proves; With flowers which yield the breath of May, |