years had not lessened for us the delight to be found in the 

 heavenward-pointing companionship of these monarch of the 

 forest. We heard, as ever, their call to worship; experienced 

 the sensation they convey of being, through them, somehow 

 connected with ages past and ages yet to come. And the 

 memory of those hours among Leech Lake's colonnades of 

 pines today makes us eager that by and by through the 

 adoption next November of the Forestry Amendment to the 

 Constitution of our State it may become the privilege of 

 every Minnesotan to taste, in some nearby State Forest, the 

 inspiration which comes from association with the "nobility 

 of the trees." 



It was moonlight as our launch steamed, back toward 

 Walker, and an evening of delight on the water closed a day 

 of unalloyed enjoyment. 



I am tired of the planning and toiling 



In the crowded hives of men; 

 Heart-weary of building and spoiling, 



And spoiling and building again 

 And I long for the dear old river 



Where I dreamed my youth away 

 For a dreamer lives forever 



And a toiler dies in a day. 



I am sick of the showy seeming 



Of a life that is half a lie. 

 Of the faces lined with scheming 



In the throng that hurries by. 

 No, no; from the street's rude bustle, 



From trophies from mart and stage, 

 I would fly to the woods' low rustle 



And the meadow's kindly page. 

 Let us dream as of yore by the river, 



And be loved for the dream alway 

 For a dreamer lives forever 



And a thinker dies in a day. 



John Boyle O'Reilly. 



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