These trees that fling their leafy boughs aloft
In city squares
So little know of ocean-scented winds
And country airs—

And yet so green they are,
So deep a shade they swing,
And from their topmost heights
So sweet the blackbirds sing!

Here, in the city's heart,
'Neath smoke-hazed skies,
Green trees do their glad part
To lighten country-weary eyes.