1840-50.] WILLIAM DANA EMERSON. 287 TO A LOCUST-TREE. I LOVE thee, locust-tree, Where'er or when I see. Not for thy fonn in which I trace The gently curving lines of grace ; But for those forms of glee Thou bring'st to memory, My earliest playmates 'neath the merry locust-tree. I love thee, locust-tree. Not for the breezes free, That play with thy velvet-fingered leaves ; Nor the fragrance thy rich blossom gives To the ever-busy air. But for those faces fair — Bathed in the locust's cooling shade — again I see them there. I love thee, locust-tree. For the song that rung from thee, Like an angel choir, when the morning beam Awakened me from a glorious dream. The song it came unsought Through the window of my cot. And roused a thrill of gratitude for my happy, humble lot. I love thee, locust-tree. For my mother seems to be Now at my side, as wont of yore. When she taught me nature's noblest lore: I see her now as oft, With hand and voice so soft, She pointed through the boughs of green, and bade me look aloft ! I love thee, locust-tree ; Mj father, where is he ? When the thunder roared, and the light- ning came, And wound the locust with wire of flame, How sudden was my cry ! He searched my frighted eye, "Son, fear the voice of Him who thunders from on high." I love thee, locust-tree — 'Twas a mournful day to me. When 'neath the shade in front of our cot, My sister's coffin was slowly brought ; And a dying leaf did fall From the locust on the pall, And I wept as we bore her clay — not her — to the narrow funeral hall. I love thee, locust-tree. Thou seem'st a family. That I may never see again, Till the car of Death bear us o'er the plain ; But if a landscape sweet Our meeting eyes shall greet. In another, happier world, 'neath a locust may we meet ! SUNSHINE. When the sky is mild and blue. And the light drops down like dew, I will sit me 'neath the shade, And look out upon the glade. How blessed the shine, To the sheep and the kine ; To the dropsical plant, To the architect ant ; To the farmer in the weeds, To the gardener with his seeds, To the starving washerwoman. To the harvest-gathering yeoman ; « To the sailor on the sea. To the dreamer like of me ; To the buoyant-souled equestrian. To tlie landless gay pedestrian.
