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It is not growing like a tree
In bulk, doth make man better be;
Or standing long read more
It is not growing like a tree
In bulk, doth make man better be;
Or standing long an oak, three hundred year,
To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere:
A lily of a day
Is fairer far in May,
Although it falls and die that night--
It was the plant and flower of Light.
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.
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.
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.
As by the way of innuendo
Lucus is made a non lucendo.
As by the way of innuendo
Lucus is made a non lucendo.
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.
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.
Some boundless contiguity of shade.
Some boundless contiguity of shade.