The Poetry Corner

To the Pines.

By Alfred Castner King

Ye sad musicians of the wood, Whose dirges fill the solitude, Whose minor strains and melodies Are wafted on the whispering breeze, Whose plaintive chants and listless sighs, Ascend as incense to the skies; Do solemn tones afford relief, With you, as men, a vent for grief?