ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
2 7 
ARBOR DAY POEM. 
Written and recited at the planting of the Buffalo “Normal Class tree,” 
April 26, 1889, by Mrs. Anna R. Pride. 
C OME thou, my ofttimes sadly labored muse, 
Infuse my pen with fire to meetly sing 
A strain befitting this empiric rite, 
A song that voices all the zeal we bring. 
Thou knowest the theme and needst not warrior shield, 
No song of valor nor of love I ween 
Shall be the task for which thine aid to yield,— 
Just clothe my song with bright and classic green. 
Thou little tree with sturdy northern face, 
From Borealis’ fir-clad, ice-crowned zone, 
Knowest thou the honor that we relegate 
In planting thee thus for our very own ? 
We hollow out thy resting place with care ; 
Thy rootlets coil beneath thy shining head ; 
While sixty pairs of hands the task divide. 
To make thy vernal and historic bed. 
Class tree, classical and classed art thou 
Now, with the evergreen and ancient yew 
That time has planted for a horologue, 
To watch these Normal classes come and go. 
Take heart of all that here with thee we plant 
Bright dreams, hopes as Parnassus’ crown, 
Wealth of devotion, deep as Stygian stream, 
O’er which brave’souls pass on to high renown. 
Drink rootlets of the Ambrosial wine we pour 
Till youth immortal permeates thy heart; 
Be thou milestone on path of life, 
That points the march of those that choose the better part. 
The migratory flocks that seek thy shade, 
Whether to build a tome or build a nest, 
Shall find a potent, soothing, magic charm 
That woos them all invitingly to rest. 
We place the turf around thy form, and go 
Not as sad mourners leaving buried dust; 
But hopeful, waiting for a crowning day, 
Perfection cometh aye for those that trust. 
We plant thee in the century’s jubilee. 
Trusting thy years may not have reached their prime, 
When other bards shall swell the glorious lay 
The nation’s natal day in nineteen eighty-nine. 
