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The forest laments in order that Mr. Gladstone may perspire.
The forest laments in order that Mr. Gladstone may perspire.
Some boundless contiguity of shade.
Some boundless contiguity of shade.
Stranger, if thou hast learned a truth which needs
No school of long experience, that the world
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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 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.
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.
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.
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.]
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?