ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
BOAT SONG. 
THE EVER-GREEN PINE. 
H AIL to the Chief who in triumph advances ! 
Honored and blessed be the ever green Pine ! 
Long may the tree, in his banner that glances, 
Flourish, the shelter and grace of our line ! 
Heaven send it happy dew, 
Earth send it sap anew, 
Gayly to bourgeon and broadly to grow, 
While every Highland glen 
Sends our shout back again, 
*“ Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho! ieroe !” 
Ours is no sapling, chance-sown by the fountain, 
Blooming at Beltane, in winter to fade , 
When the whirlwind has stripped every leaf on the mountain, 
The more shall Clan-Alpine exult in her shade, 
Moored iq the rifted rock, 
Proof to the tempest’s shock, 
Firmer he roots him the ruder it blow ; 
Monteith and Breadalbane, then, 
Echo his praise again, 
“Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho! ieroe!” 
Scott's Lady of the Lake — The Island. 
SEED WORD. 
’'TWVAS nothing,—a mere idle word, 
1 From careless lips, that fell, 
Forgot, perhaps, as soon as said. 
And purposeless as well. 
But yet as on the passing wind 
Is borne the little seed, 
Which blooms, unheeded, as a flower 
Or as a noisome weed,— 
So, often will a single word 
Unknown, its end fulfill, 
And bear, in seed, the flower and fruit 
Of actions good or ill. 
THE ROSE. 
R OSE! thou art the sweetest flower 
That ever drank the amber shower ; 
Rose! thou art the fondest child 
Of dimpled Spring, the wood-nymph wild! 
Even the gods who walk the sky 
Are amorous of thy scented sigh; 
Cupid, too, in Paphian shades. 
His hair with rosy fillet braids ; 
Then bring me showers of roses, bring, 
And shed them round me while I sing. 
Moore’s Odes of Anacreon. 
L B!ack Roderick, the descendant of Alpir 
