Fragrant o'er all the western groves The tall magnolia towers unshaded.

Look: the trees exist; the houses
we dwell in stand there stalwartly.
Only we
pass by it all, like a rush of air.
And everything conspires to keep quiet
about us,
half out of shame perhaps, half out of
some secret hope.

"Niagara! wonder of this western world, And half the world beside! hail, beauteous queen Of cataracts!" An angel who had been O'er heaven and earth, spoke thus, his bright wings furled, And knelt to Nature first, on the wild cliff unseen.

The full-blown rose, mid dewy sweets Most perfect dies.

Fancy cutting down all those beautiful trees...to make pulp for those bloody newspapers, and calling it civilisation. - Winston Churchill, remarking to his son during a visit to Canada in 1929

The place is all awave with trees, Limes, myrtles, purple-beaded, Acacias having drunk the lees Of the night-dew, fain headed, And wan, grey olive-woods, which seem The fittest foliage for a dream.