Classic Poem

Oldest of friends, the trees!
Ere fire came, or iron,
Or the shimmering corn;
When the earth mist was dank,
Ere the promise of the dawn,
From the slime, from the muck—
The trees!

Nearest of friends, the trees!
They shield us from storm
And brighten our hearths;
They bring to our tables
The autumn's fine gold;
They carol our joys
And sing to our griefs.
They cradle our young
And coffin our dead—
The trees!

Truest of friends, the trees!
Men wander far
At a word or a nod;
Life is a grief,
Love is a chance,
Faith stumbles oft,
Joy is soon past.
Oldest of friends,
Nearest of friends,
Truest of friends,
The trees!

Oldest of friends, the trees!
Ere fire came, or iron,
Or the shimmering corn;
When the earth mist was dank,
Ere the promise of the dawn,
From the slime, from the muck—
The trees!

Nearest of friends, the trees!
They shield us from storm
And brighten our hearths;
They bring to our tables
The autumn's fine gold;
They carol our joys
And sing to our griefs.
They cradle our young
And coffin our dead—
The trees!

Truest of friends, the trees!
Men wander far
At a word or a nod;
Life is a grief,
Love is a chance,
Faith stumbles oft,
Joy is soon past.
Oldest of friends,
Nearest of friends,
Truest of friends,