The Pines on Meeting House Hill, Blandford.
The trunks of these great trees are filled with spikes and staples, where the
progenitors, in days of horse-back riding, hitched their nags on Sunday.
Pines, ef you're blue, are the best
friends I know,
They mope an' sigh an' sheer your
feelin's so,-
They hesh the ground beneath so, tu,
I swan,
You half forgit you've got a body on.
Ther' 's a small school'us' there
where four roads meet,
The door-steps hollered out by lit-
tle feet,
An' side-posts carved with names
whose owners grew
To gret men, some on 'em, an' dea-
cons, tu.
Lowell.
