The plant-lore & garden-craft of ShakespeareEllacombe, Henry Nicholson
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The plant-lore & garden-craft of Shakespeare
Ellacombe, Henry Nicholson
Gardens in literature; Plants in literature; Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616 -- Knowledge -- Botany
Ay me! the bark peel'd from the lofty Pine,
His leaves will wither, and his sap decay;
So must my soul, her bark being peel'd away.
_Lucrece_ (1167).
In No. 8 is one of those delicate touches which show Shakespeare's keen
observation of nature, in the effect of the rising sun upon a group of
Pine trees. Mr. Ruskin says that with the one exception of Wordsworth no
other English poet has noticed this. Wordsworth's lines occur in one of
his minor poems on leaving Italy--
"My thoughts become bright like yon edging of Pines
On the steep's lofty verge--how it blackened the air!
But touched from behind by the sun, it now shines
With threads that seem part of its own silver hair."
While Mr. Ruskin's account of it is this: "When the sun rises behind a
ridge of Pines, and those Pines are seen from a distance of a mile or
two against his light, the whole form of the tree, trunk, branches and
all, becomes one frost-work of intensely brilliant silver, which is
relieved against the clear sky like a burning fringe, for some distance
on either side of the sun."--_Stones of Venice_, i. 240.
The Pine is the established emblem of everything that is "high and
lifted up," but always with a suggestion of dreariness and solitude. So
it is used by Shakespeare and by Milton, who always associated the Pine
with mountains; and so it has always been used by the poets, even down
to our own day. Thus Tennyson--
"They came, they cut away my tallest Pines--
My dark tall Pines, that plumed the craggy ledge--
High o'er the blue gorge, and all between
The snowy peak and snow-white cataract
Fostered the callow eaglet; from beneath
Whose thick mysterious boughs in the dark morn
The panther's roar came muffled while I sat
Down in the valley."
_Complaint of Ænone._
Sir Walter Scott similarly describes the tree in the pretty and
well-known lines--
"Aloft the Ash and warrior Oak
Cast anchor in the rifted rock;
And higher yet the Pine tree hung
His shattered trunk, and frequent flung,
Where seemed the cliffs to meet on high,
His boughs athwart the narrow sky."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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