GREEN is the plane-tree in the square, The other trees are brown ; They droop and pine for country air ; The plane-tree loves the town. Here from my garret-pane, I mark The plane-tree bud and blow, Shed her recuperative bark, And spread her shade below. Among her branches, in and out, The city breezes play ; The dun fog wraps her round about ; Above, the smoke curls grey. Others the country take for choice, And hold the town in scorn ; But she has listened to the voice On city breezes borne. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHEN THE KYE CAME HOME by JAMES HOGG THE ANGEL IN THE HOUSE: BOOK 2. CANTO 8. PRELUDE: THE KISS by COVENTRY KERSEY DIGHTON PATMORE HUDSON RIVER ANTHOLOGY by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 49. AL-MAJID by EDWIN ARNOLD THE ELDER WOMAN'S SONG: 2, FR. KING LEAR'S WIFE by GORDON BOTTOMLEY |