204 ARBOR DAY 



And drowns the villages; when, at Thy call, 

 Uprises the great deep and throws himself 

 Upon the continent, and overwhelms 

 Its cities; who forgets not, at the sight 

 Of these tremendous tokens of Thy power, 

 His pride, and lays his strifes and follies by? 



Oh, from these sterner aspects of Thy face 

 Spare me and mine; nor let us need the wrath 

 Of the mad, unchained elements to teach 

 Who rules them. Be it ours to mediate, 

 In these calm shades, Thy milder majesty, 

 And to the beautiful order of Thy works 

 Learn to conform the order of our lives. 



FROM 

 HAROLD THE DAUNTLESS 



BY SIR WALTER SCOTT 



'Tis merry in greenwood, thus runs the old lay, 

 In the gladsome month of lively May, 

 When the wild bird's song on stem and spray 



Invites to forest bower; 

 Then rears the ash his airy crest 

 Then shines the birch in silver vest, 

 And the beech in glistening leaves is drest, 

 And dark between shows the oak's proud breast, 



Like a chieftain's frowning tower. 



