|Hoyt & Roberts, comps. Hoyts New Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations. 1922.|
|Careless, unsocial plant! that loves to dwell|
Midst skulls and coffins, epitaphs and worms:
Where light-heeld ghosts and visionary shades,
Beneath the wan, cold Moon (as Fame reports)
Embodied, thick, perform their mystic rounds.
No other merriment, dull tree! is thine.
BlairThe Grave. L. 22.
|For there no yew nor cypress spread their gloom|
But roses blossomd by each rustic tomb.
CampbellTheodric. L. 22.
| Slips of yew|
Sliverd in the moons eclipse.
Macbeth. Act IV. Sc. 1. L. 27.
|Of vast circumference and gloom profound,|
This solitary Tree! A living thing
Produced too slowly ever to decay;
Of form and aspect too magnificent
To be destroyed.
|There is a Yew-tree, pride of Lorton Vale,|
Which to this day stands single, in the midst
Of its own darkness, as it stood of yore.