TO A MAPLE SEED 239 



Would you find a leaf astir 

 From a wilding throat? 



Surely, all the paths defer 



Unto such a gentle quest. 



Would you take the nest? 

 Follow where the sun-motes are! 



Truly 'tis a sorrow 

 I must bid you fare so far; 



Speed you, and good-morrow! 



THE WIND IN THE PINES 



BY MADISON CAWEIN 



WHEN winds go organing through the pines 

 On hill and headland, darkly gleaming, 



Meseems I hear sonorous lines 



Of Iliads that the woods are dreaming. 



TO A MAPLE SEED* 



BY LLOYD MIFFLIN 



ART thou some winge'd Sprite, that, fluttering round, 

 Exhausted on the grass at last doth lie, 

 Or wayward Fay ? Ah, weakling, by and by 

 Thyself shalt grow a giant, strong and sound, 

 When, like Antaeus, thou dost touch the ground. 



* Used by permission of the author. 



