Some of these ancient rows of Poplars are occasionally seen in old
fields, where almost all traces of the habitation which they were
intended to grace are obliterated. There is a melancholy pleasure
in surveying these humble ruins, whose history would illustrate the
domestic habits of our ancestors. The cellar of the old house is now
a part of the pasture-land, and its form can be traced by the simple
swelling of the turf. Sumachs and Cornel-bushes have usurped the
place of the exotic shrubbery in the old garden; and the only ancient
companions of the Poplars, now remaining, are here and there a
straggling Lilac or Currant-bush, a tuft of Houseleek, and perhaps,
under the shelter of some dilapidated wall, the White Star of Bethlehem
is seen meekly glowing in the rude society of the wild-flowers.
The Lombardy Poplar, which was formerly a favorite way-side ornament,
a sort of idol of the public, and, like many another idol, exalted to
honors that exceeded its merits, fell suddenly into unpopularity and
disgrace. After having been admired and valued as if its leaves were all
emeralds and its buds apples of gold, it was spurned and ridiculed and
everywhere cut down as a cumberer of the ground. The faults attributed
to it did not belong to the tree, but were the effects of the climate
into which it had been removed. It was brought from the sunny vales of
Italy, where it had been delicately reared by the side of the Orange and
the Myrtle, and transplanted into the cold climate of New England.
Pages:
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37