ARBOR DAY ITS HISTORY AND OBSERVANCE. 



77 



THE SPIRIT OF POETRY. 



There is a quiet spirit in these woods, 

 That dwells where'er the gentle south wind blows; 

 Where underneath the white-thorn, in the glade, 

 The wild flowers bloom, or, kissing the soft air, 

 The leaves above their sunny palms outspread. 

 With what a tender and impassioned voice 

 It fills the nice and delicate ear of thought, 

 When the fast-ushering star of morning comes 

 O'erriding the gray hills with golden scarf; 

 Or when the cowled and dusky-sandaled Eve, 

 In mourning weeds, from out the western gate, 

 Departs with silent pace ! That spirit moves 

 In the green valley, where the silver brook, 

 From its full laver, pours the white cascade; 

 And, babbling low amid the tangled woods. 



Slips down through moss-grown stones with endless laughter. 



And frequent, on the everlasting hills. 



Its feet go forth, when itTloth wrap itself 



In all the dark embroidery of the storm, 



And shouts the stern, strong wind. And here, amid 



The silent majesty of these deep woods, 



Its presence shall uplift thy thoughts from earth, 



As to the sunshine and the pure, bright air, 



Their tops the green trees lift. * * * 



[Longfellow. 



SELECTIONS FOR RECITATIONS. 



THE PURPOSE OP ARBOR DAY. 



To avert treelessness ; to improve the climatic conditions ; for the sanitation and 

 embellishment of home environments ; for the love of the beautiful and useful com- 

 bined in the music and majesty of a tree, as fancy and truth unite in an epic poem, 

 Arbor Day was created. It has grown with the vigor and beneficence of a grand 

 truth or a great tree. J. Sterling Morton. 



FOREST HYMN. 



The groves were God's first temples. Ere man learned 



To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave, 



And spread the roof above them ere he framed 



The lofty vault, to gather and roll back 



The sound of anthems ; in the darkling wood, 



Amidst the cool and silence, he knelt down, 



And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks 



And supplication. For his simple heart 



Might not resist the sacred influences 



"Which, from the stilly twilight of the place, 



And from the gray old trunks that high in heaven 



Mingled their mossy boughs, and from the sound 



Of the invisible breath that swayed at once 



All their green tops, stole over him, and bowed 



His spirit with the thought of boundless power 



And inaccessible majesty. Ah, why 



Should we, in the world's riper years, neglect 



God's ancient sanctuaries, and adore 



Only among the crowd, and under roofs 



That our frail hands have raised ? Let me, at least, 



Here, in the shadow of this aged wood, 



Offer one hymn thrice happy if it find 



Acceptance in His ear. 



[Bryant. 



