storms with which they love to dally, bounds not the heart of every Briton to the music of the national anthem Rule Britannia! Britannia rule the waves!' ?" Proud monarch of the forest! That once, a sapling bough, Didst quail far more at evening's breath Than at the tempest now, Strange scenes have pass'd, long ages roll'd Since first upon thy stem, Then weak as osier twig, Spring set Her leafy diadem. Perchance thy mid-day glory Long since has pass'd away, Yet who that views thy giant bulk No blight is on thy leaves, no branch From thy huge trunk is torn, And still in conscious might thou laugh'st The hurricane to scorn. And many a summer's bravery Unless at call of "hearts of oak" Beneath the axe thou bow, To bear the brunt of battle's rage To thee but little recks it What seasons come or go, Thou lovest to breathe the gale of spring And bask in summer's glow, But more to feel the wintry winds Sweep by in awful mirth, For well thou know'st each blast will fix Thy roots more deep in earth. Would that to me life's changes Did thus with blessings come! That mercies might, like gale of spring, More firmly on my God! THE ELM. ULMUS CAMPESTRIS. "Follow me, as I sing And touch the warbled string; Under the shady roof Of branching elm, star-proof, Follow me!" THE elm is a very majestic tree; in beauty, dignity, and usefulness, yielding only to the oak. Gilpin gives preference to the ash in his scale of precedence, because it has more of individuality than the elm, which he esteems a great source of picturesque beauty; but he allows, at the same time, that this want of distinctive character is observable chiefly in its skeleton state: when in full leaf, the elm shows itself an elm, and is marked by its superiority of height to most other of our forest trees, and by the great luxuriance of its shadowy foliage, which, however, never looks heavy or ungraceful, owing to the smallness of the leaves. Some naturalists doubt its right to be considered a native, and aver that we are indebted to the Romans |