 | The white dove, and Other Poems for Children |  |
106
Forest Trees.
I know you love the flowers,
With their merry humming bees;
But I—I love the forests
And leafy arching trees.
With their merry humming bees;
But I—I love the forests
And leafy arching trees.
There is something brave and noble
In a sturdy stout Oak tree;
That fearless meets the winter storm
Of many a century.
In a sturdy stout Oak tree;
That fearless meets the winter storm
Of many a century.
The Buttonwood, whose giant limbs
So high and far extend;
The Beech that stretches out its arms,
To greet you like a friend.
So high and far extend;
The Beech that stretches out its arms,
To greet you like a friend.
107
The firm and stately Chesnut,
With its rough and ribbed bark;
Casting upon the grass beneath
A shadow broad and dark.
With its rough and ribbed bark;
Casting upon the grass beneath
A shadow broad and dark.
The feathery Larch—the towering Pine—
The Elm tree's bending grace;
The strong-limbed Mountain Ash, that meets
The tempest face to face.
The Elm tree's bending grace;
The strong-limbed Mountain Ash, that meets
The tempest face to face.
The gray-stem'd quivering Aspen,
With its shadow undefined;
The Maple, turning to the light
Its leaf with silver lined.
With its shadow undefined;
The Maple, turning to the light
Its leaf with silver lined.
The Hemlock, with its spicy stem,
Which loves the river side,
And spreads above the barren rocks
Green arches far and wide.
Which loves the river side,
And spreads above the barren rocks
Green arches far and wide.
The Shellbark, graceful and erect—
The Hickory, lithe and tall—
The Gum tree, with its star-shaped leaves—
I dearly love them all.
The Hickory, lithe and tall—
The Gum tree, with its star-shaped leaves—
I dearly love them all.
108
What joy to stroll beneath them,
In the early days of spring,
When the blossom on the Dogwood
Unfolds its silken wing.
In the early days of spring,
When the blossom on the Dogwood
Unfolds its silken wing.
How gently steals the summer air
Between the parted leaves;
How softly on its velvet pile
The moss our feet receives!
Between the parted leaves;
How softly on its velvet pile
The moss our feet receives!
Yet, not less dear, the household trees,
Which shade our dwellings round:
The very rustle of whose leaves
Has a familiar sound.
Which shade our dwellings round:
The very rustle of whose leaves
Has a familiar sound.
The graceful Weeping Willow,
Where the orioles build and sing;
The last tree green in autumn,
The first tree green in spring!
Where the orioles build and sing;
The last tree green in autumn,
The first tree green in spring!
The tall and rigid Poplar,
Like a spire against the sky;
Telling the weary traveller
Of hut and hamlet nigh!
Like a spire against the sky;
Telling the weary traveller
Of hut and hamlet nigh!
109
Right fair may be the garden,
With its merry humming bees;
But all my heart goes forth to greet
The leafy forest trees.
With its merry humming bees;
But all my heart goes forth to greet
The leafy forest trees.
To bless the softened sunshine,
Which slants the boughs between,
And dances on the dark brown stems
And leaves of varied green.
Which slants the boughs between,
And dances on the dark brown stems
And leaves of varied green.
To meet the wind, which gently fills
The long aisles cool and dim,
And sings among the bending trees
A slow perpetual hymn!
The long aisles cool and dim,
And sings among the bending trees
A slow perpetual hymn!
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