Sorry, nothing in cart.
- By iamaadhyam
- 487 Views
- 0 Comment
I think that I shall never see A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest Against the sweet earth’s 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.