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THE 



TREE 



By GRACE CLEMENTINE HOWES 



Ttis 19 ttc tree from the earth's warm You are dumb, ailent witnesses shelter- 



hreast it grew. ing 



Called, called of God. Many a home. 



Piercing the loam, a frail, twin-leafed stem. And you bear the white sails of the seven 



it drew seas 



Strength from the sod. Through the flying foam. 



And manna from wilderness sunlight and Dipping sunward w^here strange, distant 



dew havens lift 



In w^ays untrod. 



Palm-leaf and dome. 



God w^rought it wide branches, tuned to As ships you huild worlds 'twas you were 



w^ind-music. that great ship 



Like a harps strings. Of Destiny, 



Boughs fashioned for heauty, for hird-song That hore to new lands, our fore-fathers, 



and nestings. Pilgrims 



Upspringing like w^mgs. Of Liberty, 



And wove it a rohe and a crown of green On, straining on toward the goal invincibly 



leaves 

 For its burgeonings. 



O sun-tipped wings that fan the sweet air 

 all day ! 



^A' ings that aspire. 



Straining your earth-roots, lifting you 

 heaven-'ward 



Higher and higher. 



Curved as in prayer, upraised on the even- 

 ing sky. 



Star-edged -with fire. 



O branches that tossed in the valleys and 



hills 

 Over league-long miles ! 

 Now, here, like peace-folded wings you 



arch high o er 

 The cathedral aisles. 



Or there, curving tenderly, cradle the bate 

 XA/ here he dreams and smiles. 



Through a strange sea. 



You were their shelter, their defense and 



their strength. 

 Thus you became 

 The live, fragrant sacrifice kindling a 



nation s 

 First hearth-flame. 

 And vk'rote on our history s scroll, and our 



hearts. 

 Your deathless name. 



Since when, you are sacred, symbol of great 



souls. 

 Souls that aspire ; 

 Your wings sweep the sky o'er the dyirg 



day s 

 V ast funeral pyre. 

 Lifting, reaching up from the last-red 



embers 

 Your pure desire. 







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