A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is
prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing
breast;
A tree that looks at God all
day,
And lifts her leafy arms to
pray;
A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
