Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE TREE, by HAROLD BULLARD



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THE TREE, by            
First Line: O fair and forest tree
Last Line: Stricken and dead?
Subject(s): Trees


O fair and forest tree
Where shall your great hands be,
In depths of shadows black
Or test in air?

And shall you hold the stain
Of sunlight or of rain
When I walk down the wood
And find you there?

And shall the moonlight soft
O'er swathe thee from aloft,
Like any faithful saint
To reverence wed?

Or shall the thunder crash,
And wave its burning lash,
Leaving a hundred monarchs
Stricken and dead?





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