30 
THE HOLLY TREE. 
Mould its green cup, its wiry stern, 
Its fringed border nicely spin, 
And cut the gold-embossed gem, 
That, set in silver, gleams within ! 
And fling it, unrestrained and free, 
O’er hill and dale, and desert sod, 
That man, where’er he walks, may see 
In every step the stamp of God. 
—Dr. Good. 
THE HOLLY TREE. 
0 reader ! hast thou ever stood to see 
The holly tree ? 
The eye that contemplates it well perceives 
Its glossy leaves. 
Ordered by an Intelligence so wise 
As might confound the atheist’s sophistries. 
Below, a circling fence, its leaves are seen 
Wrinkled and keen; 
No grazing cattle, through their prickly 
round. 
Can reach to wound ; 
But as they grow where nothing is to fear, 
Smooth and unarmed the pointless leaves 
appear. 
