The Holly-Tree The sunshine drapes your limbs with light, But still you droop, and still despair. Beneath your boughs, at fall of dew, The tale that, all the ages through, Has kept the world from growing old. But still, though April's buds unfold, Mourn on forever, unconsoled, And keep your secret, faithful tree; 1363 Elizabeth Akers [1832-1911] THE HOLLY-TREE O READER! hast thou ever stood to see The eye that contemplates it well perceives Ordered by an Intelligence so wise As might confound the Atheist's sophistries. Below, a circling fence, its leaves are seen, No grazing cattle, through their prickly round, But, as they grow where nothing is to fear, Smooth and unarmed the pointless leaves appear. I love to view these things with curious eyes, And moralize; And in this wisdom of the Holly-tree Can emblem see Wherewith, perchance, to make a pleasant rhyme,— One which may profit in the after-time. Thus, though abroad, perchance, I might appear To those who on my leisure would intrude, Gentle at home amid my friends I'd be, Like the high leaves upon the Holly-tree. And should my youth-as youth is apt, I know,— Some harshness show, All vain asperities I, day by day, Would wear away, Till the smooth temper of my age should be And as, when all the summer trees are seen The Holly-leaves their fadeless hues display But when the bare and wintry woods we see, So, serious should my youth appear among So would I seem, amid the young and gay, That in my age as cheerful I might be Robert Southey [1774-1843] THE PINE THE elm lets fall its leaves before the frost, "Woodman, Spare That Tree" 1365 Green pine, unchanging as the days go by, My shelter from all winds, my own strong pine, "WOODMAN, SPARE THAT TREE” WOODMAN, spare that tree! In youth it sheltered me, That old familiar tree, Whose glory and renown And wouldst thou hew it down? Cut not its earth-bound ties; O, spare that agèd oak, Now towering to the skies! When but an idle boy I sought its grateful shade; Here, too, my sisters played. My father pressed my hand- But let that old oak stand! My heart-strings round thee cling, Here shall the wild-bird sing, And still thy branches bend. Old tree! the storm still brave! And, woodman, leave the spot; Thy axe shall harm it not. George Pope Morris [1802-1864] THE BEECH TREE'S PETITION O LEAVE this barren spot to me! Thrice twenty summers I have seen Thomas Campbell [1777-1844] The Planting of the Apple-Tree 1367 THE POPLAR FIELD THE poplars are felled; farewell to the shade; Twelve years have elapsed since I first took a view The blackbird has fled to another retreat, Where the hazels afford him a screen from the heat; My fugitive years are all hasting away, With a turf on my breast and a stone at my head, 'Tis a sight to engage me, if anything can, William Cowper [1731-1800] THE PLANTING OF THE APPLE-TREE COME, let us plant the apple-tree. Cleave the tough greensward with the spade; Wide let its hollow bed be made; There gently lay the roots, and there And press it o'er them tenderly, So plant we the apple-tree. |