THEY ask me where the Temple stands, And is the Abbey far from there; They ask the way to old St. Paul's, And where they'll find Trafalgar Square. As I pass on with my one thought To find a quiet place with trees, I answer him, I answer her, I answer one and all of these. When I sit under a green tree, Silent, and breathing all the while As easy as a sleeping child, And smiling with as soft a smile -- Then, as my brains begin to work, This is the thought that comes to me: Were such a peace more often mine, I'd live as long as this green tree. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HYMN OF THE WEST by EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN CALAIS SANDS by MATTHEW ARNOLD EN PASSANT by EDITH COURTENAY BABBITT SONG OF THE WHITE COMPANY by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE THE FLYING SQUIRREL by MARY E. BURT |