Trees write their thoughts upon the sky's wide page, Pale sky of springtime, summer's virgin blue, Or storm-whipped sky, blackbrowed and thick with rage Slim willows, golden green by rushing stream, Trace daintily their tremulous, wistful hope Of earth's awakening from her winter dream. Maples are bold, and with gay, reckless hand Their flaming words of springtime rapture fling Where all who pass may read and understand. Today I saw, shrunken and scarred by time, A weathered cedar write on cold, north skies Words of calm patience, and a faith sublime. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AT CASTERBRIDGE FAIR: 5. THE INQUIRY by THOMAS HARDY BISHOP BRUNO by ROBERT SOUTHEY EUROPE; THE 72ND AND 73RD YEARS OF THESE STATES by WALT WHITMAN THE HEART OF THE WOMAN by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS JIM'S WHISTLE by ALEXANDER ANDERSON FRAGMENTS INTENDED FOR DEATH'S JEST-BOOK: SAD AND CHEERFUL SONGS by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |