. At early candle light and other poems. SSSSAPRAS AINT as the sighing winds whichfretWith sweet and subtle harmoniesThe silken strands seolian, setIn mullions old, come memoriesThat thrill and pass,wild bole, which warder stoodbygone bournes. Our sandal-wood,Slim sassafras. Like that green tree of life thou sprang From out the turf of Paradise,The heaven of boyhood, but thy tangOf bark and root among the wiseTall trees, alas!With leafy laughter did infectThe woods at thy quaint dialect,Rude sassafras. Thy spicy root had virtue rareThe blood to purge and purify; But now, amid my toil and care.

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. At early candle light and other poems. SSSSAPRAS AINT as the sighing winds whichfretWith sweet and subtle harmoniesThe silken strands seolian, setIn mullions old, come memoriesThat thrill and pass,wild bole, which warder stoodbygone bournes. Our sandal-wood,Slim sassafras. Like that green tree of life thou sprang From out the turf of Paradise,The heaven of boyhood, but thy tangOf bark and root among the wiseTall trees, alas!With leafy laughter did infectThe woods at thy quaint dialect,Rude sassafras. Thy spicy root had virtue rareThe blood to purge and purify; But now, amid my toil and mind hath medicine, for I63 64 S7^557XrRAS Feel all the crassAnd evil humors of my soulCast off, and thou hast made me whole, Rare sassafras. If, some blest day, when I shall rove By Gods great river, all alone,Thy breath, from out the healing grove,Across the hills is softly oer the tears that blur my sight shall beLoves tribute then to youth and thee,O sassafras.

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