264 ARBOR DAY 



Unskilful he to note the card 



Of prudent lore, 

 Till billows rage, and gales blow hard, 



And whelm him o'er! 



Such fate to suffering Worth is given, 

 Who long with wants and woes has striv'n; 

 By human pride or cunning driv'n 



To misery's brink; 

 Till, wrench'd of ev'ry stay but Heav'n, 



He, ruin'd, sink! 



E'en thou who mourn'st the Daisy's fate, 

 That fate is thine no distant date; 

 Stern Ruin's plowshare drives, elate, 



Full on thy bloom, 

 Till crush'd beneath the furrow's weight 



Shall be thy doom! 



OLD FASHIONED FLOWERS* 



BY MAURICE MAETERLINCK 



THIS morning, when I went to look at my flowers, 

 surrounded by their white fence, which protects 

 them against the good cattle grazing in the field 

 beyond, I saw again in my mind all that blos- 

 soms in the woods, the fields, the gardens, the 

 orangeries, and the greenhouses, and I thought of 



*Used by permission of M. Maeterlinck and Dodd, Mead & Co. 



