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That blooms so sweet and fair. Pity 'tis to waste its frangrance Upon the desert air. For when the storms of winter come, With all its beauty fled. 'Tis but a faded flower, That stands with drooping head. Its best to be a sturdy tree, That grows from year to year, And withstands the storms of winter, No matter how severe. It spreads its branches to the sky, And, grows stronger every day, It will be a sturdy tree, When the flower has passed away. Then make the most of every day, "Improve each shinging hour." Try to be a sturdy tree, And not a faded flower. -Bert D. Savage Birdsview, Wa. |