1908 



THE WHITE MOUNTAINS 



27 



the total income of such county from 

 all other sources. 



Sec. 10. That the Secretary of Ag- 

 riculture may, for the further protec- 

 tion of the watersheds of said naviga- 

 ble streams, in his discretion, and he 

 is hereby authorized, on such condi- 

 tions as he deems wise, to stipulate and 

 agree to administer and protect, for a 

 definite term of years, any private for- 

 est lands situated upon any watershed 

 whereon lands may be permanently re- 

 served, held and administered as Na- 

 tional Forest lands under the pro- 

 visions of this act; but such stipula- 

 tion or agreement shall provide that 

 the owner of such private lands shall 



cut and remove the timber thereon on- 

 ly under rules and regulations to be 

 expressed in the stipulation or agree- 

 ment, for the protection and conserva- 

 tion of the forest thereon; and such 

 stipulation or agreement may in any 

 case provide that the private lands so 

 administered and protected shall dur- 

 ing such term be subject to all the pro- 

 visions of this act and of the laws, 

 rules and regulations governing Na- 

 tional Forests so far as the same may 

 be applicable, and in that case the said 

 private lands shall, during such term, 

 be so subject to all such provisions, 

 laws, rules and regulations. 



THE WHITE MOUNTAINS 



BY 



T. L. Hoover, Brooklyn, N. Y. 



Stern of visage, gaunt of form, 

 Monarchs grim in realm of storm — 

 All the fleet of nebulous boats; 

 Every craft-of-cloud that floats, 

 Heaped high with vaporous cargo, 

 Renders toll to your embargo. 



Stern of visage, gaunt of form, 

 Spinners clad in cloaks of storm — 

 From your distaves wrapped with mist, 

 Tirelessly ye twine and twist, 

 Winding out in glistening skein. 

 Slender filaments of rain. 



Stern of visage, gaunt of form. 

 Weavers on the looms of storm — 

 Dashing streamlets now ye braid. 

 From silvery strands so deftly made; 

 Binding all these fluid fibers 

 Into power-producing rivers. 



Stern of visage, gaunt of form. 

 Wresting strength from out the storm; 

 Pouring wealth on plains below, 

 Where your cloud-wrought rivers flow, 

 Turning mill-wheels as they glide 

 To meet the ocean's brimming tide — 



Pause ye not from toil, we pray, 

 Ere our race has lived its day! 

 Masters of the wind which rages, 

 Reign ye on through endless ages; 

 Enthroned eternal midst the storm, 

 Stern of visage, gaunt of form! 



