July 28, 1916. 
By JOSEPH A. TORREY 
HE island of Fierro, one of the Canary group, is noted for its extreme dryness. Not 
a rivulet nor a spring can be found in it. There is a legend that on this island 
cnce upon a time, there grew a wonderful tree. Over this tree, so it is said, there 
gathered a cloud, and from this cloud a gentle rain was constantly falling. This pre- 
cipitation was collected in cisterns, an ample supply. Sometimes there is more truth 
in fable than in fact, in legend than in history. In probing the fairy story for its 
moral I discovered a parable, a parable of the Church of Christ on earth as watered 
by divine grace. 
YE who as Christians have a fair repute, 
With whom men find no fault and God no 
fruit, 
Content to live a life of low degree— 
A barren life, (even as you and me, ) 
List to the legend of Laurel tree! — 
A Laurel tree, mid desert sands, 
Lifted its boughs like praying hands, 
Though desert-born it knew no drouth ; 
From East and West and North and South 
Came, borne upon the wind in crowds, 
A troop of moisture-laden clouds 
Which dropped their burdens lovingly 
Upon the favored Laurel tree. 
The fluttering leaves with grateful sighs 
Received the largess of the skies 
And on the glittering drops that fell 
A rainbow arch was painted well. 
Thus, shielded from the scorching ray, 
It spread its leafy crown by day, 
And nightly it distilled the dews 
As manna fell to feed the Jews. 
So fed the tree from topmost shoot 
Through bough and trunk to deepest root, 
And so its spreading branches made 
At highest noon a cooling shade, 
Though far away on either hand, 
Stretched leagues on leagues of desert sand. 
Thus for long years the tree has flourished 
Miraculously fed and nourished. 
The birds found covert in its boughs, 
Beneath its shade the camels browse, 
And the worn traveller gratefully 
Breathed out a blessing on the tree. 
Lines Read at the Bi-Centennial 
of the Congregational Church, Manchester, July 23, 1916 
NORTH SHORE BREEZE and Reminder 
Like to the tree in desert land, 
The Church from age to age doth stand, 
Nourished and fed by God’s own hand. 
In vain our toil, in vain our tears, 
In vain our cares and hopes and fears, 
In vain our efforts, all is vain 
Without the Spirit’s quickening rain. 
Lord, by thy grace this church baptise, 
From hearts renewed may prayers arise 
To draw down blessings from the skies, 
And ‘neath the watering of Thy Love 
Our hearts to all good actions move. 
Here may the truth be lived and taught ; 
Here may the works of love be wrought ; 
Here be God’s praise devoutly sung 
In every heart, by every tongue. 
Here in the morning of their days 
May infant voices lisp Thy praise, 
And infant feet descern the road 
That leads to happiness and God. 
Here manhood, in the noon of life, 
Find strength for strain and stress of life; 
And lingering age be cheered with light, 
Like Lapland sunsets long and bright. 
© thou, in whom we move and live 
Thy Church would take what thou wouldst give; 
So may we, Lord, from thee derive 
The grace by which our souls may thrive; 
So, like the heaven-fed Laurel tree 
It, desert waste, make us to be 
A living plant of righteousness 
Our little spot of earth to bless. 
Grant us but Holiness and then 
We shall have power with God and men 
lo draw down blessings from the skies 
And make of earth a Paradise. 
63, 
