The Trees Know How To Live.
The trees know how to live. Each dying year
Their russet beauty blazons ’ere the sweep

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Of winds tumultuous; and the branches sere
Are harped to sleep.
The trees know how to live. The thrust of Spring
Laughs off the guarding bud-scales, and the leap
Of sap and youth resurged in wonder bring
Verdure to keep.
The trees know how to live, and flirt with birds,
And coyly hide sweet nests, and bees that creep
Thigh-deep in pollen.
Sing, O trees, in words,
Your secret deep,
For trees know how to live.

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