The
TREE
.
FAir
Tree
!
for
thy
delightful
Shade
'Tis
just
that
some
Return
be
made
:
Sure
,
some
Return
is
due
from
me
To
thy
cool
Shadows
,
and
to
thee
.
When
thou
to
Birds
do'st
Shelter
give
,
Thou
Musick
do'st
from
them
receive
;
If
Travellers
beneath
thee
stay
,
Till
Storms
have
worn
themselves
away
,
That
Time
in
praising
thee
they
spend
,
And
thy
protecting
Pow'r
commend
:
The
Shepherd
here
,
from
Scorching
freed
,
Tunes
to
thy
dancing
Leaves
his
Reed
;
Whilst
his
lov'd
Nymph
,
in
Thanks
,
bestows
Her
flow'ry
Chaplets
on
thy
Boughs
.
Shall
I
then
only
Silent
be
,
And
no
Return
be
made
by
me
?
No
;
let
this
Wish
upon
thee
wait
,
And
still
to
flourish
be
thy
Fate
,
To
future
Ages
may'st
thou
stand
Untouch'd
by
the
rash
Workman's
hand
;
'Till
that
large
Stock
of
Sap
is
spent
,
Which
gives
thy
Summer's
Ornament
;
'Till
the
fierce
Winds
,
that
vainly
strive
To
shock
thy
Greatness
whilst
alive
,
Shall
on
thy
lifeless
Hour
attend
,
Prevent
the
Axe
,
and
grace
thy
End
;
Their
scatter'd
Strength
together
call
,
And
to
the
Clouds
proclaim
thy
Fall
;
Who
then
their
Ev'ning-Dews
may
spare
,
When
thou
no
longer
art
their
Care
;
But
shalt
,
like
ancient
Heroes
,
burn
,
And
some
bright
Hearth
be
made
thy
Urn
.