affection of a sister for these young plants.' Taking it for granted
that the mango tree has the same feeling for herself, she cries: 'Yon
Amra tree, my friends, points with the fingers of its leaves, which
the gale gently agitates, and seems inclined to whisper some secret';
and with maiden shyness, attributing her own thoughts about love to
the plants, one of her comrades says: 'See, my Sakuntala, how yon
fresh Mallica which you have surnamed Vanadosini or Delight of the
Grove, has chosen the sweet Amra for her bridegroom....'

'How charming is the season, when the nuptials even of plants are
thus publicly celebrated!'--and elsewhere:

'Here is a plant, Sakuntala, which you have forgotten.' Sakuntala:
'Then I shall forget myself.'

Birds,[2] clouds, and waves are messengers of love; all Nature
grieves at the separation of lovers. When Sakuntala is leaving her
forest, one of her friends says: 'Mark the affliction of the forest
itself when the time of your departure approaches!

'The female antelope browses no more on the collected Cusa grass, and
the pea-hen ceases to dance on the lawn; the very plants of the
grove, whose pale leaves fall on the ground, lose their strength and
their beauty.'

The poems of India, especially those devoted to descriptions of
Nature, abound in such bold, picturesque personifications, which are
touching, despite their extravagance, through their intense sympathy
with Nature. They shew the Hindoo attitude toward Nature in general,
as well as his boundless fancy. I select one example from 'The