Our Tree
Into the sunbeams’ keeping
The mellow sunbeams bright.
We give our tree, to nourished be,
By the warm, life-giving light.
The gentle breezes, tender,
That rustle the tree-tops high,
Will whisper to it, how stately
It may be, in the bye-and-bye.
And the rain and the dew will moisten
And freshen the rootlets light.
And we shall soon see in our spreading tree,
A rare and beauteous sight.
And the birds will seek its shelter,
How glad we then shall be,
That on Arbor Day in the joyous May,
We planted a fair young tree.
Let us then rejoice and sing,
That in the gladsome spring,
The springtime of our lives and of the year,
We have marked again the day
Which we welcome every May,
And have planted thus a tender sapling here.
By Jennie D. Moore
Into the sunbeams’ keeping
The mellow sunbeams bright.
We give our tree, to nourished be,
By the warm, life-giving light.
The gentle breezes, tender,
That rustle the tree-tops high,
Will whisper to it, how stately
It may be, in the bye-and-bye.
And the rain and the dew will moisten
And freshen the rootlets light.
And we shall soon see in our spreading tree,
A rare and beauteous sight.
And the birds will seek its shelter,
How glad we then shall be,
That on Arbor Day in the joyous May,
We planted a fair young tree.
Let us then rejoice and sing,
That in the gladsome spring,
The springtime of our lives and of the year,
We have marked again the day
Which we welcome every May,
And have planted thus a tender sapling here.
By Jennie D. Moore