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THE BIRTH OF A TREE. 



Once I lay 'neath quilt of green, 



All unthought of, all unseen ; 

 Little thinking of the world 



Out of which I had been hurled. 



By and by, when quilt grew hot, 



Mother Nature touched my cot. 

 Whispered softly in my ear, 



"Higher, higher, higher, dear." 



Painted lovely scenes for me. 



Saying, "Child, climb up and see." 



I was lazy, so I said, 



"Please, ma'am, let me stay in bed." 



Something whispered, "Child, I fear 



Life will be but meager here." 

 Golden sunbeams bade me start. 



And a purpose filled my heart. 



I would leave my bed of ease, 



I would join the forest trees ; 

 Shelter travelers passing by, 



Hide squirrels in the branches high. 



Purpose, mighty power, led. 



Ever, ever on ahead. 

 Till I grew up here so high. 



Near the sunlight and the sky. . 



Mother Nature, mother dear, 



I am glad you called me here. 

 Thus the mighty forest oak 



From his wooded homeland spoke. 



And I thought a lesson this — 



We, to reach the highest bliss, 

 Must arise from beds of ease, 



Growing like the forest trees. 



Lucia Belle Cook 



