Erect it stands in graceful strength;
Its spire points upward to the sky;
And nestled in its sheltering arms
The birds of heaven securely lie.
And though no gaily painted bells,
Nor odor-bearing urns, are there,
When the west wind sighs through its boughs,
Let me inhale the balmy air!
The stately PALM in conscious pride
Lifts its tall column to the sky,
While round it fragrant air-plants cling,
Deep-stained with every gorgeous dye.
Linger with me a moment, where
The LOCUST trembles in the breeze,
In soft, transparent verdure drest,
Contrasting with the darker trees.
The humming-bird flies in among
Its boughs, with pure white clusters hung,
And honey-bees come murmuring, where
Its perfume on the air is flung.
A noble LAUREL meets our gaze,
Ere yet we leave these alleys green.
'Mongst many stately, fair, and sweet,
The DAPHNE ODORA stands a queen.
May 2, 1853.
AUNT MOLLY.
A REMINISCENCE OF OLD CAMBRIDGE.
In looking back upon my early days, one of the images that rises most
vividly to my mind's eye is that of Miss Molly ----, or Aunt Molly, as
she was called by some of her little favorites, that is to say, about
a dozen girls, and (not complimentary to the _un_fair sex, to be sure)
one boy.
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