Canadian Forcstrij JournuL August, 1918 



1841 



ti^gatt pxmB 



Bii Waller Prirhnrd Eaton 



I shall be one with these pines 



Some happy day. 



Dwarfed by the wind and molded by 

 the snow, 



They burst pink cones 



In a meadow starred with violets. 



Xo sound they hear 



But the mountain wind, 



The birdlike chirp of the ground 

 squirrels, 



The tinkle of ice-water brooks 



Across the grass, 



The far, soft thunder of outleaping 

 streams 



That glide like silver hair down drip- 

 ping cliffs 



From glaciers on the Great Divide— 

 The hair of Melisande grown white 



with peace. 

 All night I lay beneath the stars 

 And heard their breeze-borne thunder 

 I saw the sun 

 Blush on the glaciers while the world 



was dark, 

 Then pry the gloom out of the hole 



beneath; 

 I saw the golden violets 

 Nod in the rising breeze; 

 I drank from brooks of melting snow. 

 And said good-morning to a deer. 

 I shall be one with these pines 

 Some happy day. 



®l|r (§lh Q^utB anb tltr f imng 



Bi/ Helen Fcleif 



The forest leaves had turned to russet 



brown, 

 And the small cedars and the stump 



firs 

 Watched horrified, 



And called to the oaks, moss-grown 

 "How long is't ere the spring and 



summer dim?" 

 The old trees shook their heads and, 



sighing, cried : 

 "We are so old we cannot count the 



years, 

 And Time is twisted in our every 



limb." 



At night the winds and growing cold 



made wars; 

 Unto the elms whose crested head 



each rears 

 Against the stars. 

 The little birches sighed: 



■'Where is the sun, the birds that 



sang to him?" 

 The old trees shook their heads and, 



wailing, cried: 

 "We are so old we cannot count the 



years, 

 And Age is twisted in our every limb." 



At last the young trees quiet grew, 



outworn, 

 And all the forest shed its silent tears; 

 Autumn's last warm day died. 

 Naked, forlorn. 

 The aspens shivered in the winter 



grim : 

 And the old trees bent their heads 



and, moaning, cried: 

 "We are so old we cannot count the 



years. 

 And Death is twisted in our every 



limb." 



Germany doubled its Yield in a Generation. 

 Germany has for long spent 7,000,000 pounds sterling a year on its for- 

 ests (or about 3,500,000 pounds sterling if we deduct the timber working), 

 and it has got the yield doubled in a generation. 



