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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.
The place is all awave with trees,
Limes, myrtles, purple-beaded,
Acacias having drunk the lees
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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.
If the clouds be full of rain, they empty themselves upon the
earth: and if the tree fall toward read more
If the clouds be full of rain, they empty themselves upon the
earth: and if the tree fall toward the south, or toward the
north, in the place where the tree falleth, there it shall be.
Fragrant o'er all the western groves
The tall magnolia towers unshaded.
Fragrant o'er all the western groves
The tall magnolia towers unshaded.
The groves were God's first temple. Ere man learned
To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave,
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The groves were God's first temple. Ere man learned
To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave,
And spread the roof above them,--ere he framed
The lofty vault, to gather and roll back
The sound of anthems; in the darkling wood,
Amidst the cool and silence, he knelt down
And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks
And supplication.
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 shad-bush, white with flowers,
Brightened the glens; the new leaved butternut
And quivering poplar to the read more
The shad-bush, white with flowers,
Brightened the glens; the new leaved butternut
And quivering poplar to the roving breeze
Gave a balsamic fragrance.
Plant no other tree before the vine.
[Lat., Nullam vare, sacra vite prius arborem.]
Plant no other tree before the vine.
[Lat., Nullam vare, sacra vite prius arborem.]
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.