Fair tree! for thy delightful shade <br />'Tis just that some return be made; <br />Sure some return is due from me <br />To thy cool shadows, and to thee. <br />When thou to birds dost shelter give, <br />Thou music dost from them receive; <br />If travellers beneath thee stay <br />Till storms have worn themselves away, <br />That time in praising thee they spend <br />And thy protecting pow'r commend. <br />The shepherd here, from scorching freed, <br />Tunes to thy dancing leaves his reed; <br />Whilst his lov'd nymph, in thanks, bestows <br />Her flow'ry chaplets on thy boughs. <br />Shall I then only silent be, <br />And no return be made by me? <br />No; let this wish upon thee wait, <br />And still to flourish be thy fate. <br />To future ages may'st thou stand <br />Untouch'd by the rash workman's hand, <br />Till that large stock of sap is spent, <br />Which gives thy summer's ornament; <br />Till the fierce winds, that vainly strive <br />To shock thy greatness whilst alive, <br />Shall on thy lifeless hour attend, <br />Prevent the axe, and grace thy end; <br />Their scatter'd strength together call <br />And to the clouds proclaim thy fall; <br />Who then their ev'ning dews may spare <br />When thou no longer art their care, <br />But shalt, like ancient heroes, burn, <br />And some bright hearth be made thy urn.<br /><br />Anne Kingsmill Finch<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-tree-10/
