Poem by Alfred Castner King

To the Pines

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?

1. Think Not That the Heart Is Devoid of Emotion
2. Humanity's Stream
3. Nature's Lullaby
4. The Spirit of Freedom Is Born of the Mountains
5. There Is an Air of Majesty

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