A GROVE.
FROM “BRITANNIA’S PASTORAL.”
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-arm’d 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;
The 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 Browne, 1590–1645.