' As sunbeams stream through liberal space, 

 And nothing jostle or displace, 

 So waved the pine-tree through my thought. 

 And fanned the dreams it never brought. 



' Who leaves the pine-tree, leaves his friend, 

 Unnerves his strength, invites his end. 



' Whether is better the gift or the donor? 

 Come to me, 

 Quoth the pine-tree, 

 I am the giver of honor : 

 He is great who can live by me. 

 The rough and bearded forester 

 Is better than the lord ; 

 God fills the scrip and canister, 

 Sin piles the loaded board. 



' Whoso walketh in solitude. 

 And inhabiteth the wood. 

 Choosing light, wave, rock, and bird, 

 Before the money-loving herd, 

 Into that forester shall pass, 

 From these companions, power and grace. 

 Clean shall he be, without, within. 

 From the old adhering sin." 



Emerson. 



206 



