Not one trembling leaflet cries To that Watcher in the skies "Remove, remove thy searching gaze, Innocent, of heaven's ways, Brood not, Moon, so wildly bright, On secrets hidden from sight.

Leaflets oval in shape, deep green, with the upper surface rough to the touch, the under sides densely tomentose.

Only a year goes by before they appeal by their leaflet-paper for several thousand dollars to buy land and build a home and school property.

All, all, revives a bliss too bright to last, And every leaflet whispers of the past.