I planted here, today, a strong young tree. Rich soil it has, and sun, and space to grow; And who, I wonder, in the years to be Will seek its boughs’ soft shade; for well I know Long ere this slender plant grows full and round He who now tends it shall be sleeping sound. What manner of a man will sit to view This now familiar scene when those shades spread? Will he be thankful that he never knew These days of strange, uncomprehended dread? Or will he, gazing back, find cause to sigh For olden peace, for happier days gone by? I planted here, to-day, a strong young hope That, when this tree’s green banners be unfurled, There shall come singing down this verdant slope Some wiser mortal of a wiser world. And if he bless the man who set the tree, And be content, so, mayhap, shall I be.