THE ARDOR DAY LADY 
19 
TREES 
I think that I shall never see 
A poem lovely as a tree. 
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest 
Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast; 
A tree that looks to 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. 
Poems are made by fools like me, 
But only God can make a tree. 
—Joyce Kilmer. 
