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AMERICAN FORESTRY 



THE MONARCH PINE 



By LEON T. CHAMBERLAIN 



Straight, and gaunt, and grim. 



He stands on tne canyon s rim. 



And lifts Kis knotted arms 



To tlie winter s mighty storms. 



And roars as they rail at him. 



When the summer sun smiles down 

 On his royal, pinioned crow^n 

 His myriad needles sing 

 The love songs or a king. 

 And he smooths his hattle frown. 



As he mounted to the stars 

 Through a century of wars 



^^Vith the w^inds those bitter foes 



Left the story of their blows 

 In a thousand ragged scars. 



Thus the Titan reigns alone 

 O er a monarchy of stone. 



And his paeans never cease; 



Martial airs or notes of peace 

 Pour eternal round his throne. 



In the \varm, impassioned night. 

 With a thrill of keen delight. 

 His softest tassels sigh 

 To the nightbirds flitting by. 

 And the breezes aimless flight. 



