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ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
THE INDIAN’S PROPHESY. 
B UT I behold a fearful sign, 
To which the white man’s eyes are blind, 
Before these fields were shorn and tilled, 
Full to the brim our rivers flowed, 
The melody of waters filled 
The fresh and boundless wood, 
And torrents dashed and rivulets played, 
And fountains sported in the shade. 
These grateful sounds are heard no more. 
The springs are silent in the sun, 
The rivers, by the blackened shore, 
With lessening currents run; 
The realm our tribes are crushed to get 
May be a barren desert yet. 
Bryant. 
EVANGELINE. 
INTRODUCTION. 
T HIS is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks, 
Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight, 
Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic, 
Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms. 
Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neighboring ocean 
Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest. 
This is the forest primeval; but where are the hearts that beneath it 
Leaped like the roe when he hears in the woodland the voice of the huntsman >' 
Longfellow. 
Here nature does a house for me erect, 
Nature the wisest architect, 
Who, those fond artists does despise 
That can the fair and living trees neglect, 
Yet the dead timber prize. 
Cowley.. 
Know ye 
Know ye 
Hundred 
With ten 
vvhjr the Cypress-tree as freedom’s tree is known ? 
why the Lily fair as freedom’s flower is shown ? 
arms the Cypress has, yet never plunder seeks ; 
well-developed tongues, the Lily never speaks ! 
Omar Khayyam.. 
