She stretched her boughs high above her head and declared that she would always hold them like that, so that nobody could hide stolen gold under them again.

And she taught all the little poplars she knew to stand the same way, and that is why Lombardy poplars always do.
But the aspen poplar leaves are always shaking, even on the very calmest day.

And do you know why ?" And then she told us the old legend that the cross on which the Saviour of the world suffered was made of aspen poplar wood and so never again could its poor, shaken, shivering leaves know rest or peace.

There was an aspen in the orchard, the very embodiment of youth and spring in its litheness and symmetry.

Its little leaves were hanging tremulously, not yet so fully blown as to hide its development of bough and twig, making poetry against the spiritual tints of a spring sunset.
"It does look sad," said Peter, "but it is a pretty tree, and it wasn't its fault." "There's a heavy dew and it's time we stopped talking nonsense and went in," decreed Felicity.