BURNHAM-BEECHES.

For the toast shall be tough and the tea shall

be bitter,

And even through breakfast this thought shall

intrude:

That a little pale brandy and seltzer were fitter For such an occasion than animal food.

The theme, if not the poet, shines,

So bright are Burnham-beeches.

BURNHAM-BEECHES.

O'er many a dell and upland walk,
Their sylvan beauty reaches,

Of Birnam-wood let Scotland talk,

While we've our Burnham-beeches.

Oft do I linger, oft return,

(Say, who my taste impeaches)

Where holly, juniper, and fern,

Spring up round Burnham-beeches.

Tho' deep embower'd their shades among, The owl at midnight screeches,

Birds of far merrier, sweeter song,

Enliven Burnham-beeches.

If "

sermons be in stones," I'll bet

Our vicar, when he preaches, He'd find it easier far to get

A hint from Burnham-beeches.

BURNHAM-BEECHES.

Their glossy rind here winter stains,

Here the hot solstice bleaches.

Bow, stubborn oaks! bow, graceful planes,

Ye match not Burnham-beeches.

Gardens may boast a tempting show
Of nectarines, grapes, and peaches,

But daintiest truffles lurk below

The boughs of Burnham-beeches.

Poets and painters, hither hie,

Here ample room for each is

With pencil and with pen to try

His hand at Burnham-beeches.

When monks, by holy Church well schooled, Were lawyers, statesmen, leeches,

Cured souls and bodies, judged or ruled,

Then flourished Burnham-beeches,

BURNHAM-BEECHES.

Skirting the convent's walls of yore,

As yonder ruin teaches.

But shaven crown and cowl no more

Shall darken Burnham-beeches.

Here bards have mused, here lovers true
Have dealt in softest speeches,

While suns declined, and, parting, threw
Their gold o'er Burnham-beeches.

O ne'er may woodman's axe resound,
Nor tempest, making breaches

In the sweet shade that cools the ground
Beneath our Burnham-beeches.

Hold! tho' I'd fain be jingling on,

My power no further reaches—

Again that rhyme? enough-I've done,

Farewell to Burnham-beeches.

HENRY LUTTRELL.

On the house, "if he's in-I should like to try;"

With his oar on his knee,

Says Dick, says he,

"Father, suppose you land and see!"

"What land and sea,"

Says I to he,

"Together! why Dick, why how can that be?"