238 ARBOR DAY 



Since youthful lovers in my shade 

 Their vows of truth and rapture made; 

 And on my trunk's surviving frame 

 Carv'd many a long-forgotten name. 

 Oh! by the sighs of gentle sound, 

 First breathed upon this sacred ground; 

 By all that Love has whisper'd here, 

 Or beauty heard with ravish'd ear; 

 As Love's own altar honor me: 

 Spare, woodman, spare the beechen tree! 



WOOD-SONG* 



BY JOSEPHINE PRESTON PEABODY 



LOVE must be a fearsome thing 



That can bind a maid 

 Glad of life as leaves in spring, 



Swift and unafraid. 



I could find a heart to sing 



Death and darkness, praise or blame; 



But before that name, 

 Heedfully, oh, heedfully, 



Do I lock my breast; 

 I am silent as a tree, 



Guardful of the nest. 



Ah, my passing Woodlander, 



Heard you any note ? 

 * By permission of the publishers, Houghton, Mifflin & Co. 



