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.

Care is taken that trees do not grow into the sky.
[Ger., Es ist dafur gesorgt, dass die Baume read more

Care is taken that trees do not grow into the sky.
[Ger., Es ist dafur gesorgt, dass die Baume nicht in den Himmel
wachsen.]

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.

The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry,
Of bugles going by.

The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry,
Of bugles going by.

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.

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.

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.

Some boundless contiguity of shade.

Some boundless contiguity of shade.