The inhabitants of Atri slept or dozed; The Syndic started from his deep repose, Turned on his couch, and listened, and then rose In half-articulate jargon, the old song: 60 65 "Some one hath done a wrong, hath done a wrong!" But ere he reached the belfry's light arcade Meanwhile from street and lane a noisy crowd With much gesticulation and appeal 70 75 80 85 Maintaining, in an angry undertone, That he should do what pleased him with his own. And thereupon the Syndic gravely read "Pride goeth forth on horseback grand and gay, They never yet have reached your knightly ear. 90 95 100 The Knight withdrew abashed; the people all 105 110 5 10 15 PLANT A TREE LUCY LARCOM He who plants a tree, Plants a hope. Rootlets up through fibres blindly grope; Leaves unfold into horizons free. So man's life must climb From the clods of time Unto heavens sublime. Canst thou prophesy, thou little tree, What the glory of thy boughs shall be? He who plants a tree, Plants a comfort that will never cloy; Every day a fresh reality, Beautiful and strong, To whose shelter throng Creatures blithe with song. If thou couldst but know, thou happy tree, Of the bliss that shall inhabit thee! He who plants a tree, He plants peace. Under its green curtains jargons cease. Shadows soft with sleep Down tired eyelids creep, Balm of slumber deep. Never hast thou dreamed, thou blessed tree, 30 He who plants a tree,- Vigor won for centuries in sooth; On old growths appear: Thou shalt teach the ages, sturdy tree, Youth of soul is immortality. He who plants a tree, He plants love; Tents of coolness spreading out above Wayfarers, he may not live to see. Gifts that grow are best; Hands that bless are blest ; Plant! life does the rest! Heaven and earth help him who plants a tree, And his work its own reward shall be. SPRING (Translated from the French of Charles D'Orleans) GENTLE Spring! in sunshine clad, 5 And thou, thou makest the sad heart gay. He sees thee, and calls to his gloomy train, The sleet, and the snow, and the wind, and the rain; And they shrink away, and they flee in fear, When thy merry step draws near. 40 35 Winter giveth the fields and the trees, so old, Their beards of icicles and snow; And the rain, it raineth so fast and cold, We must cower over the embers low; And, snugly housed from the wind and weather, 10 But the storm retires, and the sky grows clear, 15 Winter maketh the sun in the gloomy sky 20 SELECTION FROM MARMION SIR WALTER SCOTT YOUNG LOCHINVAR OH! young Lochinvar is come out of the west, 5 He stay'd not for brake and he stopped not for stone, He swam the Eske river where ford there was none; |