Though our watchers wait in vain, The wild white steeds of Neptune Will homeward come again. Reprinted by permission of the author. Salute to the Trees Henry Van Dyke For biographical note concerning the author, see "An Angler's Wish," page 8. This beautiful tribute to the trees will surely bring from every reader a sympathetic response. Full, round, ringing tones are required for effective delivery. The meter is such that you will need to be on your guard against falling into a "sing-song." MANY a tree is found in the wood And every tree for its use is good: But the glory of trees is more than their gifts: Their leaves are alive with the breath of the earth; They shelter the dwellings of man; and they bend O'er his grave with the look of a loving friend. I have camped in the whispering forest of pines, "God bless thy branches and feed thy root! Thou ancient, friendly, faithful tree." Reprinted by permission of the author and by special arrangement with, Charles Scribner's Sons, the publishers of the author's works. The Green Inn Theodosia Garrison Faulks Theodosia Garrison Faulks was born in Newark, N. J., in 1874, and was educated in private schools. She is the author of a number of poems, and contributes verse and stories to magazines. Where is the background of this poem, and why could it not be placed in our country at this time? In the delivery, watch especially for the proper placing of emphasis in order to express the thought. A slow rate, with expansion of the principal words, is required for the most effective reading of the last stanza. I SICKEN of men's company, The crowded tavern's din, Where all day long with oath and song So come I out from noise and rout Here none may mock an empty purse But Silence waits within the gates The roof is high and arched and blue, And swift and fleet on noiseless feet Upon my board they set their store, As from a cup I drink it up It's I will sit in God's Green Inn Yet ever fed and comforted, Companioned by my host, And watched by night by that white light O you who in the House of Strife Come out and see what cheer may be For starveling souls and thin Who come at last from drought and fast Reprinted by permission of the author and Scribner's Magazine. Copyright, 1907, by Charles Scribner's Sons. Rebels Louis Untermeyer For biographical note concerning the author, see "The Laughers," Page 88. This unique fancy, built around a single phenomenon in nature, will appeal especially to residents of the northern sections, where the scene described is frequently observed. STIFF in midsummer green, the stolid hillsides March with their trees, dependable and staunch, Except where here and there a lawless maple Thrusts to the sky one red, rebellious branch. You see them standing out, these frank insurgents, With that defiant and arresting plume; Scattered, they toss this flame like some wild signal, Calling their comrades to a brilliant doom. What can it mean-this strange, untimely challenge; Are they so tired of earth they fly the banner Or is it, rather than a brief defiance, An anxious welcome to a vivid strife? A glow, a heart-beat, and a bright acceptance Rebellious or resigned, they flaunt their color, "Light up the world," they wave to all the others; "Swiftly we live and splendidly we die." Reprinted by permission of the author and Henry Holt and Company. Birches Robert Frost Robert Frost was born in San Francisco in 1875, but was brought up in New England. Most of his poetry deals with life in the North Atlantic States. He is now professor of English in the University of Michigan. Among his books are "North of Boston," "A Boy's Will," and "Mountain Interval," all published by Henry Holt and Co., New York. This teasing sort of verse-more than half conversational-is difficult to render, but pleasing when it is rendered well. Bring out the picture in the early part of the poem, and the philosophy toward the end. WHEN I see birches bend to left and right Soon the sun's warmth makes them shed crystal shells Shattering and avalanching on the snow-crust |