ions go with me to soothe and
cheer; so do not pity me that I am what I am--'nobody,' living
'nowhere.' You have seen that the Angel of Beauty disdains not to appear
in my humble path--and sometimes hovers so near, I can almost touch her
wings!

And so God be w'ye! Little joys to you are great joys to me. There be
those above you, 'kinges and princes and greate emperours,' to whom your
luxuries and badges would seem as little as mine are to you. When you
are beautiful, you adorn my street; when you are unlovely, I--pass you
by. _Bon jour la compagnie!_

THE IVY.

'Sleep thou, and I will wind thee in my arms.
Fairies, begone, and be all ways away.
So doth the woodbine the sweet honeysuckle
Gently entwist,--the female Ivy so
Enrings the barky fingers of the elm.
Oh, how I love thee; how I dote on thee!'

_Midsummer Night's Dream_, act iv., scene 1.

'The bearers of the thyrsus (bound with Ivy) are many, but the
Bacchantae are few.'--_Orphic saying._

If, among plants, the Rose is unmistakably feminine, from the delicate
complexion of its flower, the Ivy is not less so from the tender
sentiment of attachment expressed by its whole form and life. In her
infinite array of poetic symbols, Nature has given us nothing so
exquisitely typical of all that is best in woman, as that which may be
found in the graceful curves and in the firm strength of this vine. In
youth and beauty, she clings to the husband tree or parental wall for
support, and, like a wife or daughter, conceals defects, and imparts a
softer shadowing and contour to the support, without which she herself
had never risen to light and life. Time passes on. The oak grows old,
the wall is shattered by lightning; but the Ivy, now strong and firm,
shelters the limbs or binds together the tottering walls with greater
care than before, and covers decay and rifts with fresh care--aided by
the younger daughter-vines.

This simile has occurred to poets in all lands, in all ages. In an old
Chinese poem (JOLOWICZ, _der Poetische Orient_, s. 7) we are told that
'in the south there lives a tree, the Ivy _Ko_ clings and winds around
it, bringing the most excellent of joys and happiness in excess.' Owing
to this natural and most palpable resemblance, the ancient Greeks caused
the officiating priest in the temple to present to a bridal pair, on
entering, a twig of Ivy, 'as a symbolical wish that their love, like it,
might ever conti