OLD SYCAMORE TREE

(This tree stands on the Medbourn grounds at the south end of Lake Maxinkuckee and is believed to be one of the finest specimens of its kind around the country.)

Stealthily I come within your shadow Ol Sycamore Tree.
Contributing a humble homage unto thee.
And not desiring orthodoxy to offend,
A whispered prayer silently I send
To what'er may your growth prolong,
Or add a twig, where wind may sing its song.

'Tis not in mock solemnity I come,
To view your beauty in the setting sun.
But with my eyes upturned through wooden arms,
I'm prone to worship all your tinted charms,
And revel in a spell you hold for me,
A spell you weave though but a sycamore tree.

Could I but tell your story and recite,
The hidden secret of your growth and might.
How bark and wood from cambium absord life,
How stipules shield the vernal leaf from strife.
I'd hold my converse every day with thee,
Idolatrous though it might seem, Old Sycamore Tree.

And now as Winter comes, I bid a last adieu
To all the forest trees, particularly you.
Your mantle's at your feet, your Your limbs though now are bare,
You lines are just as beautifulas when your leaves are there.
I leave you not forgotten. Can you remember me?
These are my last impressions, Old Sycamore Tree.
- J. W. BEATTY.

Culver Citizen Apr 5, 1933