EARLY BUDS. OH! foolish, foolish buds! Why were ye tempted by a transient ray Why did ye not remain Safe from the pelting rain Within your parent stem, 'Till the warm zephyr from the south should blow, And drive the hoary frost and fleecy snow Back to their frigid den? Then might ye, safe from harm, To add new sweetness to the vernal gale And o'er the purple heath. Then, in the summer heat, Have form'd a cool retreat, Where lovers' vows are heard; And holding in your arms the mossy nest, And when the morning's beam Did on your beauties gleam, And dew-drops glitter'd your gay leaves among, Your kindly shelter would have been repaid By gentle voices in the greenwood shade, Caroll'd in warblings wild, or plaintive song. Alas! the winter's storm The sunny skies deform, And even now ye die! Soon wither'd, dropping from the shrivell'd stem, Unwept, forgotton, on the earth must lie! So have I seen some early bud of youth So bright! so beautiful! Death might not come Within the circle of that happy home, Such treasur'd bliss to mar! It might not come! Bid the wind cease to blow; Bid the storm subside; the falling snow Within the clouds remain : And when they hearken to the bidding, say To the stern tyrant, Death, "Away! away! "Earth owns no more thy power, nor dreads thy name!" E. P. TOBACCO PLANT.-That the tobacco plant may be produced to any extent in the British islands, is beyond a question. It grows in all the temperate zones to a high latitude. It is cultivated extensively in Germany and the Low Countries, and even in Sweden. It required all the intemperate laws of King JAMES, and his successors, to repress its progress in England. During the American war, and previous to the application to Scotland of the prohibitory laws by the Act of 1782, it was cultivated on the banks of the Tweed and Teviot, with the most promising results. This Act overtook the planters in the midst of their labours, and compelled them to root up their plantations, and dispose of the produce to Government at a third part of its market price. THE TALLIPOT TREE.-A leaf of this extraordinary tree has lately been brought over from the island of Ceylon, of which place it is a native, and is now in the possession of the Rev. Richard Fletcher, of Hampstead. The leaf is in a good state of preservation; it measures fully 11 feet in height, 16 feet across its widest spread, and from 38 to 40 feet in circumference. If expanded as a canopy, it is sufficient to defend a dinner party of six from the rays of the sun in Ceylon it is carried about by the natives for that purpose. A FRAGMENT. "We all do fade as a leaf."-Isaiah lxiv. 6. "We all do fade as a leaf!" Again and again I repeated the sentence to myself, when, after traversing the avenue for some time, I had inadvertently stepped into a heap of these mementos of the departing year, which the care of some of the gardeners had removed from the path, and collected to the side of the road. This trivial incident broke in upon a gay and buoyant train of thought, and as for a single moment I stood rooted to the spot, the words of the prophet fell with a deep and painful meaning upon my heart. I resumed my walk; I would have resumed the train of thought which had been thus interrupted, but in vain; and when I again reached the spot where the fallen leaves were deposited, I made a longer pause. With how loud a voice did they speak of the end of all things! how forcibly remind me that those busy projects which at that moment agitated my heart, would like them fade, and be carried on in the tide of life! When a few more years have : passed away, I shall perhaps have forgotten that they ever had the power to interest me. The leaves fade away, and leave the parent stems desolate, but in a few short months they will bud and bloom again other leaves, as gay as those once were whose remains I now gaze upon, will supply their place, and clothe the forest with as bright a green. And is it not so with the heart? we are separated from those who once were most dear to us; they fade away into the tomb; new interests are excited, new friendships contracted, and every former image is effaced and forgotten. But no, I exclaimed, interrupting myself, the recollections of kindness, the feelings of gratitude, can never be thus transient cold indeed must be that heart which could admit of the supposition even for a moment. My eye rested on the venerable pile of building before me; it seemed but as yesterday since the master of that stately mansion stood at the portal to welcome my arrival; and now where was he gone-and for ever! The accents of his voice were never again to be heard; my eye was to behold him no more. No more!-Oh, what a sense of sadness did these few words convey to the heart! As these thoughts passed through my mind, a slight breeze agitated the naked branches; it came like a murmur, and then the sullen sound passed away, but it had helped to complete the work of desolation, and several of the remaining leaves were wafted to my feet. How indiscriminately were here mingled the pride of the forest, the majestic oak, the trembling aspin, the graceful poplar, with all the tribe of inferior shrubs! Here lay all that remained of their once gay foliage, one undistinguishable mass of decay, with no mark to point out to the beholder to which they had originally belonged; all we knew was, that they once were leaves. And shall not Death, the great leveller, reduce us to the same state of equality? The great, the noble, the learned, the beautiful, when they lay down their heads in the grave, what are they more than the mean, the lowly, and vile? For a short time they leave a name behind them; and then, how quickly are the best-beloved forgotten! Those reflections, from being serious, were fast becoming sorrowful; but it was a sorrow in which no pain was mingled; when the gay voices of my companions, calling upon me to join them in their walk, soon put every sombre thought to flight. EFFECTS OF IVY ON TREES.-It appears to be a vulgar prejudice that ivy kills the trees it clings to. If it rooted itself, as is erroneously supposed, in their bark, and fed on their juices, it might merit the accusation of a destroyer; but it derives its nourishment wholly from the ground, where it is rooted; and the supposed roots on the bark of trees are only tendrils or holdfasts, to enable it to climb. The opinion of its injuring trees seems to have arisen, and very naturully too, from the fact, that it prefers to climb up a dead or dying branch, and will not attach itself to very young wood at all. Mr. Reptan, the landscape gardener, gives numerous facts to show that trees overrun with ivy, so far from being injured by it, grow most luxuriantly. Evelyn says, than when ivy is stript from the trees, they are often killed by the cold in the ensuing winter. THE LAST TREE OF THE FOREST. Well might proud tales be told by thee, Dwells there no voice amidst thy boughs, "I have seen the forest shadows lie "With the glance of many a gallant spear, And the bounding of a hundred deer, It hath lit the woodland's gloom. "I have seen the knight and his train ride past, O'er all my leaves there was brightness cast "The pilgrim at my feet hath laid His palm branch 'midst the flowers, "And the merry men of wild and glen, In the green array they wore, Have feasted here with the red wine's cheer, And the hunter songs of yore. "And the minstrel, resting in my shade, Hath made the forest ring With the lordly tales of the high crusade, "But now the noble forms are gone The soft wind hath a mournful tone, "There is no glory left us now Oh! thou dark tree, thou lonely tree, A lovely and a mirthful sound Of laughter meets mine ear; For the poor man's children sport around And roses lend that cabin wall A happy summer glow; And the open door stands free to all, And the village bells are on the breeze That stirs thy leaf, dark tree! How can I mourn, 'midst things like these, STRUCTURE OF THE STIGMA.-The stigma, or summit of the pistil in flowers, is as wonderful as it is simple. Its surface will be found to be almost universally moist and studded with very fine warts or hairs, which are always closed as in the roots. Whatever, therefore, passes into the interior of the stigma or pistil, must, in this case also, make its way through the apparently impervious and shut extremities of these organs. In many plants, particularly the Lobelias, nature has been careful to protect the tender structure of the stigma from external injuries, by a particular contrivance, of which we have a good example in the Lobelia discolor, consisting of a sort of veil, which covers and protects it till it has attained its perfect state. HOPE. HOPE, with uplifted foot, set free from earth, |