362 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



Specimen Programs. Port Henry, N. Y. Continued. 



Concert Recitation .' 



Woodman, spare each tree ! 



Harm not a single bough ! 

 In youth they sheltered thee, 



You should protect them now. 



These old familiar trees 



Whose glory and renown 

 Are spread o'er lands and seas 



And wouldst thou hack them down ? 



Woodman, stay thy hand 



Cut not their earth-bound ties ; 

 O spare these trees so grand, 



Now towering to the skies. 



Each pupil had a bough of the tree which he or she represented, and made an appro- 

 priate gesture when speaking of himself or herself. 



5. A BOUQUET OF FLOWERS. Ten Pupils of 2nd Intermediate Department. 



First Pupil. THE ARBUTUS. 

 If Spring has Maids of Honor 



And why should not the Spring, 

 With all her dainty service, 



Have thought of some such thing ? 



If Spring has Maids of Honor 



Arbutus leads the train; 

 A lovelier, a. fairer, 



The Spring would seek in vain. 



Second Pupil. THE ROSE. 



I am the blushing rose, 



Rending with my fulness, 

 'Midst my close-capped sister buds, 

 Warming the green coolness 



Hold me very lightly 



See from what a slender 

 Stalk I bower in heavy blooms. 



And roundness rich and tender. 



Third Pupil. THE VIOLET. 

 I am the violet, and I dwell 

 Under the shade of the sweet Heathbell, 

 Early, at dawning, it rings, and it rings, 

 To waken me, ere the Redbreast sings. 

 I am happy, so happy, the live-long day ; 

 For I love in my lowly home to stay; 

 And I know that the sunny days of Spring 

 The love of the children to me will bring. 



Fourth Pupil. THE BUTTERCUP. 

 I am the Buttercup, shining like gold; 

 With a smile for the young, and a smile for the old, 

 I grow in the sunshine, and grow in the shade; 

 I'm the cheeriest flower that ever was made. 

 When the little ones find me they dance with de- 

 light, 



As they fill up their aprons with Buttercups bright 



"Now see who loves butter !" they shouting begin 



As they hold me up under each lily-white chin. 



Fifth Pupil. THE LILY. 



I am the lily fair. 

 The flower of virgin light ; 

 Nature held me forth and said, 

 "Lo! my thought of white." 



Ever since then, angels 



Hold me in their hands ; 



You may see them when they take 



In pictures their sweet stands. 



Like the garden's angel 



Also do I seem ; 



And not the less for being crowned 



With a golden dream. 



Sixth Pupil. THE DANDELION. 



I am the common Dandelion, that grow'th beside 



the way, 



Fringing the dusty road with harmless gold ; 

 First pledge of blithesome May, 

 Which children pluck, and, full of pride, uphold. 

 High-hearted buccaneers, o'erjoyed that they 

 An Eldorado in the grass have found, 

 Which not the rich earth's ample round 

 May match in wealth. 



Seventh Pupil. THE DAISY. 



I am the bright Daisy, whose home is everywhere 



A pilgrim bold in nature's care, 



And all the long year through the heir of joy and 



sorrow. 



Methinks that there abides in me 

 Some concord with humanity, 

 Given to no other flower J see 



The forest through. 



Glittering from afar, 



I seem a pretty star ; 

 Not quite so fair as many are 



In heaven above me ! 

 Yet like a star, with glittering crest, 

 Self-posed in air I seem to rest. 



Concert Recitation : Chorus of Flowers. 



We are the sweet flowers, Oh! true things are fables, 



Born of sunny showers, Fit for sagest tables, 



Think, whene'er you see us, what our beauty saith; And the flowers are true things yet no fables they. 

 Utterance, mute and bright. Fables were not more 



Of some unknown delight. Bright, nor loved of yore ; 



We fill the air with pleasure, by our simple breath ; Yet they grew not, like the flowers, by every old 



pathway, 



Grossest hand can test us, 



Fools may prize us never, [ever. 



Yet we rise, and rise, and rise marvels sweet for- 



All who see us love us 



We befit all places ; 

 Unto sorrow we give smiles and unto graces, races, 



Mark our ways, how noiseless 



All, and sweetly voiceless 



Though the March winds pipe to make our passage 

 clear ; 



Not a whisper tells 



Where our small seed dwells, 

 Nor is known the moment green when our tips 

 appear. 



We thread the earth in silence, 



In silence build our bowers, 



And leaf by leaf in silence show, till we laugh a-top 

 sweet flowers. 



Who shall say that flowers 



Dress not heaven's own bowers? 

 Who its love, without us, can fancy or sweet floor ? 



Who shall ever dare 



To say we. sprang not there, 



And came not down, that Love might bring one piece 

 of heaven the more? 



O pray believe that angels 



From these blue dominions [pinions. 



Bought usin their white laps down, 'twixt their golden 



Each pupil had a bunch of flowers pinned on him or her to indicate what he or she 

 represented. 



