Alabama, ipi 3. 51 



THE SEED. 



THE sower sows a little seed; 

 The hands of God attend it, 

 The tears of heaven befriend it, 

 The harvest fills a need. 



The poet hears a little word; 



Into his heart he takes it, 



Into a song he wakes it, 

 And kindred hearts are stirred. 



With seed and word the world is rife; 

 If loving hands will plant them, 

 A Sovereign Love will grant them 



Life, and the joy of life. 



— Henry Durnont. 



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UNDER WOODLAND MISLETOE. 



A STRETCH of timbered land, by running stream, 

 A happy couple stroll, as in a dream — 

 A silence golden down the woodland path — 

 Then a protesting cry and smothered laugh. 



For in the stately elm that skirts their way, 



Where last summer's birds' nests softly sway — 



Upon a branch, with berries white as snow, 

 Grows a thick dumb of yuletide mistletoe ! 



— Dick Wiltse. 



