200 ARBOR DAY 



Amidst the cool and silence, he knelt down 

 And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks 

 And supplications. 



For his simple heart 

 Might not resist the sacred influences 

 That, from the stilly twilight of the place, 

 And from the gray old trunks that high in heaven 

 Mingled their mossy boughs, and from the sound 

 Of the invisible breath that swayed at once 

 All their green tops, stole over him, and bowed 

 His spirit with the thought of boundless Power 

 And inaccessible Majesty. 



Ah ! why 



Should we, in the world's riper years, neglect 

 God's ancient sanctuaries, and adore 

 Only among the crowd, and under roofs 

 That our frail hands have raised ? Let me, at least, 

 Here, in the shadow of this aged wood, 

 Offer one hymn, thrice happy if it find 

 Acceptance in his ear. 



Father, Thy hand 



Hath reared these venerable columns: Thou 

 Didst weave this verdant roof. Thou didst look down 

 Upon the naked earth, and forthwith rose 

 All these fair ranks of trees. They in Thy sun 

 Budded, and shook their green leaves in Thy breeze, 

 And shot toward heaven. The century-living crow, 



