THE TREE'S LESSON.
Away, in a sunnier clime than this,
Afar o'er the billowy sea.
They show us a rare and a wonderful sight—
The Pine Umbrella Tree.
Afar o'er the billowy sea.
They show us a rare and a wonderful sight—
The Pine Umbrella Tree.
It seems, like some faithful sentinel,
In those Temple grounds to stand;
The murmuring winds, through it, music make,
Like the ripple of waves on the strand.
In those Temple grounds to stand;
The murmuring winds, through it, music make,
Like the ripple of waves on the strand.
Gay birds in its green boughs carol such songs,
That the little ones pause 'mid their play;
While the world-worn and weary oft turn with a smile;
To hear what these "tongues in trees" say.
That the little ones pause 'mid their play;
While the world-worn and weary oft turn with a smile;
To hear what these "tongues in trees" say.
Who plants of this marvellous tree the seed,
Can ne'er hope to gaze on its flower;
For a hundred changeful years must pass,
To bring on its blossoming hour.
Can ne'er hope to gaze on its flower;
For a hundred changeful years must pass,
To bring on its blossoming hour.
The sower must lie in his bed of dust,
As slept that brown seed long ago;
But of good deed done, 'neath that tropical sun,
Will thousands of grateful hearts know.
As slept that brown seed long ago;
But of good deed done, 'neath that tropical sun,
Will thousands of grateful hearts know.
The Upas and deadly night-shade fling
Their withering chill on the air;
But this tree's pure breath is a foe to death—
It, balm-laden, banishes care.
Their withering chill on the air;
But this tree's pure breath is a foe to death—
It, balm-laden, banishes care.
Youth, manhood, and age 'neath its branches repose,
As glide the years silently by;
While the sower, perchance, looks smilingly down
From the "sky above the sky."
As glide the years silently by;
While the sower, perchance, looks smilingly down
From the "sky above the sky."
O pilgrim, so weary—O toiler, so faint—
Take heart, for this wonderful tree,
Though voiceless, hath speech, though dumb, it can teach,—
A mentor-friend proving to thee.
Take heart, for this wonderful tree,
Though voiceless, hath speech, though dumb, it can teach,—
A mentor-friend proving to thee.
Its lesson so holy I leave thee to guess,
E'en now hath thy soul it divined,—
In meekness, faith, patience, in silence, hope, trust,
Toil on for the good of thy kind.
E'en now hath thy soul it divined,—
In meekness, faith, patience, in silence, hope, trust,
Toil on for the good of thy kind.
In thought, word, and deed, sow naught but good seed,
And thy life shall an evergreen bloom;
That thy work was done well, will the centuries tell,
As they pass, 'mid their glory and gloom.
And thy life shall an evergreen bloom;
That thy work was done well, will the centuries tell,
As they pass, 'mid their glory and gloom.