Trees
‘Trees,’ so he said and laid him lovingly
At a great beech-tree’s root, ‘are my best friends.
Upon their love it seems my life depends.
No dog or woman for me! Give me a tree!
In winter saying, ’ Courage! hold to me!’
In spring, ' Look up! hope’s here, and winter ends!’
In summer, 'Come! here’s peace that naught transcends
In autumn, ‘ See! the dreams I bring to thee!’
Why, I have loved a tree until for me
It had a soul. And as the Greeks believed
So I believe: that in each dwells a life,
Lovely, ecstatic, that some man may see
Take on material form, and, so perceived,
Hold him for aye.... That’s why I have no wife.’
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