2io ARBOR DAY 



THE OAK 



BY JOHN DRYDEN 



THE monarch oak, the patriarch of the trees, 

 Shoots slowly up, and spreads by slow degrees; 

 Three centuries he grows, and three he stays 

 Supreme in state, and in three more decays. 



THE TREE 



BY BJORNSTJERNE BJORNSON 



THE tree's early leaf-buds were bursting their 



brown. 



"Shall I take them away?" said the frost, sweep- 

 ing down. 



"No; leave them alone 

 Till the blossoms have grown," 

 Prayed the tree, while he trembled from rootlet to 

 crown. 



The tree bore his blossoms, and all the birds 



sung. 



"Shall I take them away?" said the wind, as he 

 swung. 



"No leave them alone 

 Till the berries have grown," 

 Said the tree, while his leaflets quivering hung. 



