ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
245 
Listened as if I heard an angel sing 
With news from heaven, which he could bring 
Fresh every day to my untainted ears 
When birds and flowers and I were happy peers. 
How like a prodigal doth nature seem, 
When thou, for all thy gold, so common art! 
Thou teachest me to deem 
More sacredly of every human heart, 
Since each reflects in joy its scanty gleam 
Of heaven, and could some wondrous secret show, 
Did w v e but pay the love we owe, 
And with a child’s undoubting wisdom look 
On all these living pages of God’s book. 
Lowell. 
TREES IN THE CITY. 
J'T'IS beautiful to see a forest stand, 
1 Brave with its moss-grown monarchs and the pride 
Of foliage dense, to which the south wind bland 
Comes with a kiss, as lover to his bride ; 
To watch the light grow fainter, as it streams 
Through arching aisles, where branches interlace, 
Where sombre pines rise o’er the shadowy gleams 
Of silver birch, trembling with modest grace. 
But they who dwell beside the stream and hill 
Prize little treasures there so kindly given : 
The song of birds, the babbling of the rill, 
The pure unclouded light and air of heaven. 
They walk as those who seeing, cannot see, 
Blind to this beauty even from their birth : 
We value little blessings ever free ; 
We covet most the rarest things of earth. 
But rising from the dust of busy streets 
These forest children gladden many hearts; 
As some old friend their welcome presence greets 
The toil-worn soul, and fresher life imparts. 
Their shade is doubly grateful when it lies 
Above the glare which stifling walls throw back ; 
Through quivering leaves we see the soft blue skies, 
Then happier tread the dull, unvaried track. 
Alice B. Neal. 
