BJÖRNSTJERNE BJÖRNSON
Norway, 1832-
The Tree
The Tree's early leaf buds were bursting their brown;
"Shall I take them away?" said the Frost, sweeping down.
"No, leave them alone
Till the blossoms have grown," 10
Prayed the Tree, while he trembled from rootlet to crown.
The Tree bore his blossoms, and all the birds sung;
"Shall I take them away?" said the Wind, as he swung.
"No, leave them alone
Till the berries have grown,"
Said the Tree, while his leaflets quivering hung.
The Tree bore his fruit in the midsummer glow; 5
Said the girl: "May I gather thy berries now?"
"Yes, all thou canst see:
Take them; all are for thee,"
Said the Tree, while he bent down his laden boughs low.
FRANK DEMPSTER SHERMAN
America, 1860-
September
Here's a lyric for September, 10
Best of all months to remember;
Month when summer breezes tell
What has happened, wood and dell,
Of the joy the year has brought,
And the changes she has wrought.
She has turned the verdure red; 5
In the blue sky overhead,
She the harvest moon has hung,
Like a silver boat among
Shoals of stars—bright jewels set
In the earth's blue coronet; 10
She has brought the orchard's fruit
To repay the robin's flute
Which has gladdened half the year
With a music liquid, clear;
And she makes the meadow grass 15
Catch the sunbeams as they pass,
Till the autumn's floor is rolled
With a fragrant cloth of gold.