THE ARBOR DAY LADY 
51 
OUR TREES IN FRANCE 
(In memory of our Boys) 
‘"For those who perished overseas, 
Our glorious host that lies 
In France, let hosts of living trees 
Gloriously arise; 
Rise where charred limbs of older trees, 
Flung mute against the sky, 
To countless wanton cruelties 
In silence testify.” 
Of our swift passage through this scenery 
Of life—more durable than we, 
What landmark so congenial as a tree, 
Repeating its green legend every Spring, 
And, with a yearly ring, 
Recording the fair seasons as they flee, 
Type of our brief but still—renewed mor¬ 
tality? 
—Lowell. 
