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Either make the tree food, and his fruit good; or else make the
tree corrupt, and his fruit corrupt: read more
Either make the tree food, and his fruit good; or else make the
tree corrupt, and his fruit corrupt: for the tree is known by
his fruit.
You'd scarce expect one of my age
To speak in public on the stage;
And if I read more
You'd scarce expect one of my age
To speak in public on the stage;
And if I chance to fall below
Demosthenes or Cicero,
Don't view me with a critic's eye,
But pass my imperfections by.
Large streams from little fountains flow,
Tall oaks from little acorns grow.
Stranger, if thou hast learned a truth which needs
No school of long experience, that the world
read more
Stranger, if thou hast learned a truth which needs
No school of long experience, that the world
Is full of guilt and misery, and hast seen
Enough of all its sorrows, crimes and cares,
To tire thee of it, enter this wild wood
And view the haunts of Nature. The calm shade
Shall bring a kindred calm, and the sweet breeze
That makes the green leaves dance, shall waft a balm
To thy sick heart.
Some boundless contiguity of shade.
Some boundless contiguity of shade.
Where is the pride of Summer,--the green prime,--
The many, many leaves all twinkling?--three
On the mossed read more
Where is the pride of Summer,--the green prime,--
The many, many leaves all twinkling?--three
On the mossed elm; three on the naked lime
Trembling,--and one upon the old oak tree!
Where is the Dryad's immortality?
It was the noise
Of ancient trees falling while all was still
Before the storm, in the read more
It was the noise
Of ancient trees falling while all was still
Before the storm, in the long interval
Between the gathering clouds and that light breeze
Which Germans call the Wind's bride.
I think that I shall never see
A poem as lovely as a tree.
. . . read more
I think that I shall never see
A poem as lovely as a tree.
. . . .
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
I like trees because they seem more resigned to the way they have
to live than other things do.
I like trees because they seem more resigned to the way they have
to live than other things do.
The place is all awave with trees,
Limes, myrtles, purple-beaded,
Acacias having drunk the lees
read more
The place is all awave with trees,
Limes, myrtles, purple-beaded,
Acacias having drunk the lees
Of the night-dew, fain headed,
And wan, grey olive-woods, which seem
The fittest foliage for a dream.