2 g2 ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 



BRIAR-BLOOM. 



THE wild azaleas sweeten all the woods, 

 The locust swings its garlands of perfume ; 

 But, sweetest of all sweets, to-day there broods 

 Above the slopes of green and golden gloom - 

 The scent of briar-bloom. 



Sweetest of sweets and fairest of all flowers 



Among wealth of delicate blossoming, 

 The blackberry bramble creeps and hides, or towers 



Above the budding shrubs, with clasp and cling 



Bowering the realm of spring. 



Roses are warmer with their passion red, 



Lilies are queenlier with their hearts of snow, 



Magnolia cups a heavier incense shed, 



But when I would be tranced with sweet I go 

 Where the sharp briars grow. 



Brave must the hand be, which would bear away 



Their snowy length and dare the threatened doom, 



Yet when is past my woodland holiday, 



I can but smile at wounds and deck my room 

 With wreaths of briar-bloom. 



Some souls I love are trimmed with flowers like these, 

 Recluse and shrinking from the broadest day, 



And full of delicate fragrances 



Yet with keen pride to hold false friends at bay 



And keep the world away. 



ELIZABETH AKERS ALLEN. 



ANTIQUITY OF FREEDOM. 



HERE are old trees, tall oaks, and gnarled pines, 

 That stream with gray-green mosses; here the ground 

 Was never trenched by spade, and flowers spring up 

 Unsown, and die ungathered. It is sweet 

 To linger here among the flitting birds 

 And leaping squirrels, wandering brooks, and winds 

 That shake the leaves, and scatter, as they pass, 

 A fragrance from the cedars, thickly set 

 With pale-blue berries. In these peaceful shades 

 Peaceful, unpruned, immeasurably old 

 My thoughts go up the long dim path of years, 

 Back to the earliest days of liberty. 



BRYANT. 



