TO A CENTURY PLANT.
Reading edition
———
BY MRS. JANE C. CAMPBELL.
———
An hundred summers, and the sun
Hath poured on thee his light;
An hundred winters, and the storm
Hath swept the earth in night.
Yet thou, unhurt by sun or storm,
Art standing firm and green
As when by bright eyes long ago
Thy broad dark leaves were seen.
Art standing stately in thy pride,
While fragrant flowers unfold
From every branch of thy tall stem,
As if thou wert not old.
Not old! an hundred years has time
Borne silently away;
Of all who saw thee first, not one
May look on thee to-day.
I would that every flower of thine
Were gifted with a spell,
Which, whispering to this heart of mine,
Of all the past might tell.
For much I love the olden time,
And many an olden theme;
Their pleasant memories haunt my heart
Like shadows in a dream.
And I from thee a tale would hear
Ere thou dost fade away,
For thou, with all thy thousand years,
Art hasting to decay!
A true, true tale of human hearts,
Of human hopes and fears,
And I will give to joys a smile,
To griefs will give my tears.
And yet, mayhap, the wish is vain,
To wake the solemn past,
Or break the darkly-woven chain
By silence round it cast.
Mayhap ’tis but a foolish wish,
And yet the thoughtful mind
Will love the lore of human hearts,
That links it to its kind.
Thou of the hundred years! what change
Hast seen around thee wrought?
Hast thou no voice, no truthful voice,
To tell of buried thought?
Still silent—but thy rustling leaves
Whisper in spirit-tone,
“Wouldst learn the tale of other hearts,
Look, then, into thine own.
“Think of the warm, bright hopes that sprung
Within thy youthful breast,
Oh think what pangs thy heart have wrung
For dear ones laid at rest.
Think what a mighty lore remains
Still to be read by thee;
The past—the present—future—all
Blended in one Eternity!”