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.

Some boundless contiguity of shade.

Some boundless contiguity of shade.

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.

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 forest laments in order that Mr. Gladstone may perspire.

The forest laments in order that Mr. Gladstone may perspire.

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.

I have seen the wicked in great power, and spreading himself like
a green bay tree.

I have seen the wicked in great power, and spreading himself like
a green bay tree.

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?

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.