Itettrastos. 
James Montgomery. 
FI AIR tree of Winter, fresh and flowering. 
When all around is dead and dry; 
Whose ruby buds, though storms are lowering, 
Spread their white blossoms to the sky; 
Green are thy leaves, more purely green, 
Through every changing period seen ; 
And when the gaudy months are past 
Thy loveliest season is the last. 
Be thou an emblem—thus unfolding 
The history of that maiden’s mind, 
Whose eye, these humble lines beholding, 
In them her future lot may find; 
Through life’s mutations may she be 
A modest evergreen, like thee : 
Though blessed in youth, in age more blessed, 
Still be her latest days the best. 
