318 THE LOG OF THE SUN 



In the far North stands a Pine-tree, lone, 



Upon a wintry height; 

 It sleeps; around it snows have thrown 



A covering of white. 



It dreams forever of a Palm 

 That, far i' the morning-hind, 



Stands silent in a most sad calm 

 Midst of the burning sand. 

 (From the German of Heine.) SIDKET LAHI 



