ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 47 



RACE OF THE FLOWERS. 



THE trees and the flowers seem running a race, 

 But none treads down the other; 

 And neither thinks it his disgrace 

 To be later than his brother. 



Yet the pear tree shouts to the lilac tree, 



" Make haste, for the Spring is late ! 

 And the lilac tree whispers to the chestnut tree, 



Because he is so great, 

 1 Pray you, great sir, be quick, be quick, 

 Far down below we are blossoming thick ! " 



Then the chestnut hears and comes out in bloom 

 White, or pink, to the tip-top boughs 



Oh why not grow higher, there's plenty of room, 

 You beautiful tree, with the sky for your house? 



Then like music they seem to burst out together, 

 The little and the big, with a beautiful burst; 

 They sweeten the wind, they paint the weather, 

 And no one remembers which was first; 

 White rose, red rose, 

 Bud rose, shed rose, 

 Larkspur, and lilac, and the rest, 

 North, south, east, west. 

 June, July, August, September! 



Ever so late in the year will come, 



Many a red geranium, 



And sunflowers up to November ! 



Then the Winter has overtaken v nem all, 

 The fogs and the rains begin to fall, 

 And the flowers after running their races, 

 Are weary, and shut up their little faces, 

 And under the ground they go to sleep. 

 Is it very far down ? Yes ever so deep. 



GOLDEN ROD. 



WAY down in the meadow, and close by the brook. 

 If ever you take the trouble to look, 

 A plant you will see that shows in the light 

 With its green and gold so gay and bright, 

 Nodding and tossing its head in pride. 

 As if it were queen of the meadow wide. 

 That beautiful blossom, so tall and odd, 

 Is the bloom of the plant called golden rod. 



