  The wind that through the forest blows May scatter leaves and blossoms wide. The parent tree but firmer grows When by the tempest torn and tried. The stately oak withstands the storm That rocks its boughs in fiercest strife; The winds that shake its sturdy form But give a deeper, stronger life. The maple leaves are falling fast, The sugar groves look gaunt and grim, But sap will flow when winter's past, And sweetness course through every limb. The mighty eucalyptus tree But sheds its bark at winter's call Its leaves retain their greenery, And yield a curing oil for all. Now, toughened by a thousand gales, Straight stands the kauri in its prime, Fit mast for proudest ship that sails. Drooping its weary fronds, the palm In sorrow stands on sun-baked plain Till comes, like blessed healing balm, The early and the latter rain. The noble banyan dying lives, In youth 'twould shield a single man, In age its spreading shelter gives Shade for a prince's caravan. No weaklings these, their roots deep down In Mother Earth retain their hold. To heaven they raise a leafy crown, Sound-hearted, loyal, earnest-souled. |
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