']2)^ The yoiirnal of Forestry. 



Forest Songs and Poetry, 



FOREST HAUNTS. 



Ye olden oaks, deep clad in greenness vernal, 



With summer's sunlight on yuur rugged brows, 

 Methinks I hear the voice of the Eternal 

 Go out amid the swaying of your boughs. 



And oft unto your solemn shades retiring 

 Of temple, altar, shrine, my heart to Him 



Has poured the burden of its high aspiring 



In measured cadence through your cloisters dim. 



As wayward child, touched by some anguished arrow 

 From the full quiver of the coming years, 



On mother's breast unbosoms wild its sorrow, 

 AVhile loving kisses dry the brimming tears ; 



So turn I, yearning for your dear caressing ; 



World-worn and weary do I come again 

 To win some measure of maternal blessing. 



If but a brief forgetfulness of pain. 



From life's fierce conflict, from its toil unending, 

 Awhile to rest me where no care intrudes. 



And feel my soul in quickened pulses blending 

 With kindred souls that dwell iu solitudes; 



To lowly listen to the mystic voices 



That through your boundless sanctuaries ring, 



And feel, while Nature in her heart rejoices, 

 Some thrill of rapture iu my own upspring. 



These shall restore me to the pure and tender 

 Of feelings sullied iu embittered strife ; 



Some faiut ray kindle of Hope's morning splendour, 

 That shed a halo on each dream of life. 



gentle spirit that afar is hiding 



In unfrequented wilds of wood and glen, 

 Couldst thou as in these tranquil haunts abiding, 

 Dwell in the homes and in the hearts of men, 



1 had not need to medicine this longing. 

 With calm and quiet in your green retreat ; 



Life's stony paths, with weary pilgrims thronging, 

 Were fair and flowery to these bleeding feet. 



