OUR BROTHERS, THE TREES 



ual world, perhaps some of the time and 

 money now spent on battleships and destruc- 

 tive armies will be diverted to the mainte- 

 nance of our beautiful and peaceful de- 

 fenders, the trees. 



As a small thankoffering to many trees in 

 whose companionship the writer has felt an 

 unalloyed joy for which the rushing world 

 knows no formula, the following poem to a 

 king of the forest is gratefully dedicated: 



To A SEQUOIA 



Imperial brother of the ages gray, 

 By right divine enthroned, we hail thee king. 

 For such compelling majesty is thine 

 That wanton-handed Time forbears to mar 

 Thy godlike form, more fain to bid the years 

 Augment the power that scepters thee with awe. 

 So wait the vassal centuries on thee: 

 With golden sunbeams weaving earth and air, 

 With dew and raindrops weaving light, till thou 

 Art clad in glory's wonder-garments broad 

 Wrought out upon the silent looms of God. 



And still for thee the unworn shuttles move, 

 That plied while ancient empires rose and fell, 

 And all the shifting pageantry of time 

 Dissolved in mist upon oblivion's shore. 

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