Trees, and Other Poems

Trees

     (For Mrs. Henry Mills Alden)

     I think that I shall never see
     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.