THE FOREST TREES.

MAMMA, mamma, pray listen to me,
While I try to remember each forest tree.
The Oak comes first, for that is the king,
Then the Pine, that towers over every thing.
The Hemlock, the Fir, and the Cedar are seen,
Even in winter, apparelled in green.

The Maple and Birch, and the graceful Elm,
The Chestnut and Beech, I remember them;
The Walnut, the Cherry, the Poplar and Lime,
The Ash, with its berries in autumn-time,
And the beautiful Larch, whose tassels fling
Sweetness around in the early spring.

The Willow, whose brauches the waters meet,
The Locust with flowers so white and sweet,
And the tall and stately Sycamore,

I wonder I mentioned it not before.

And now I can think of no other tree,

But O, in the forest I long to be!

A TALK AMONG THE FLOWERS.

"Do flowers talk?" said Caroline,

"I never hear

Voices from mine;

Mamma, you said the flowers told
Wondrous things, both new and old.”

"Sweet voices come from every flower,

That blooms in garden,

Wood or bower;

Sweet, silent voices, Caroline,

Come then and listen, daughter mine.

"I will to you a story tell,

And you must mind

The moral well;

"T will teach you a bright lesson, child, From garden flowers, and blossoms wild."

134

A TALK AMONG THE FLOWERS.

Not far from the borders of a dark wood, was a bright and cheerful looking garden. Flowers were there, of every hue and form, growing and rejoicing beneath the beams of the summer's

sun.

"Ah, how happy we are!" said the Marigold to the Larkspur.

"Here we bloom and soar upward almost to the very sun," said a family of Sunflowers.

"Yes, and climb as high as the sky," cried a Convolvulus and Jasmine, who had wound themselves round a tall Princess-feather.

แ

"How brilliant and stately we are," said the proud Dahlia. "We are admired far more than those pale flowers that grow in yonder wood."

"I pity the poor faded things," whispered a bright Coreopsis.

"I look down upon them," said a fierce Tigerlily.

"The sun loves the garden flowers best," said a Pansy of great beauty, to some sweet Mignio

A TALK AMONG THE FLOWERS.

135

nette; let us be glad that our home is in this bright place."

"I will ring a peal for very happiness," replied a gay Canterbury Bell; "for how could we exist in the gloom of that forest?"

"Let us be merry and glad that we are not wood-flowers," shouted they all, with a musical laugh that rung through the wood and made the wild-flowers wonder.

A bright Golden-rod, that grew on the edge of the forest, with his friend the Aster, heard this conversation, and felt the injustice of it. Gracefully bowing his yellow plumes, he exclaimed, "Indeed, you do not know us; our life is the happiest in the world. In the deep woods, sheltered from the storm and heat, by the towering trees that soar above us like guardian angels, we live in peace and beauty. The sun does not always bathe us in a flood of light as he does the garden flowers, but he darts his beams through green boughs, and they come to us in tenfold beauty, scattered in a golden show

136

A TALK AMONG THE FLOWERS.

er;

and in the still night, the stars look down between the tops of the tall trees, and gaze

silently and lovingly upon us."

The wood-flowers heard the

silvery tones of

the Golden-rod with glee, as he recounted their blessed sources of delight.

"We have music, too," said he, "such as never floats through garden airs. We listen to the wind, as it sighs through the pines, and waves the bowery branches of the oak and maple, for each tree is a separate harp, that gives forth its own sweet melodies."

Then all the flowers that grew by the brook, said, "Hear the music of the waters, as they dash along over the rocks, and look on them as they reflect the sunlight upon us, and make us bright and beautiful."

And the little Mosses called out from the shades, "O let us always grow in the greenwood, and live in its shadows, and delight in its sweet voices."

Then the Ferns waved joyfully, and the Cle