Among Wisconsin Pines
By Nellie Olson
Closely bending to each other
Sway the slender trees of pine,
While their branches, finger-ending,
Clasp each other, keeping time,
As in olden minuet,
On a graceful, stately step,
To the rhythm of the music
Breathed in whispers
By the pines.
Oh, the fragrance of the pines!
How it lingers in our minds,
As a censer, swinging near,
Leaves the spicy perfume rare,
Or as from some oaken chest
Odors come from folds long pressed;
While the aged forest bards
Sweetly mimic harpsichords,
In the rambling, dulcet music
Of the pines.
Copyright © by the owner.
