erie YDB ONG BU Bal PN 
THE WHITE BIRCH 
Have you ever seen a white birch 
High upon a hill 
Curtsey to a star 
While other trees stand still? 
Aspens merely tremble, 
As if they were afraid, 
And poplar trees stand stiff and straight, 
Like soldiers on parade. 
Pine trees are proud trees, 
And pine trees grow tall; 
Pine trees never curtsey 
To stars at all. 
But the slim white birches 
High upon a hill 
Curtsey to the evening star 
While other trees stand still. 
PORK SICOIN Dlgy bOI 
There are lonely folk who love 
Pine trees in the rain; 
Gay, sweet things like flowers and song 
Bring them only pain. 
The slow beauty of the clouds 
Or twisting scarfs of smoke, 
These for others:—windy pines 
For earth’s lonely folk. 
THE WORLDS OF SILENT FOLKS 
The silent are a folk apart, 
Such sympathy is in their heart. 
Their words they lovingly unfold, 
Like chrysalids of green and gold, 
From which there come shy, jeweled things, 
With dainty, hesitating wings; 
And all these thoughts, like butterflies 
Lie dreaming in their quiet eyes. 
