I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree
A tree whose hungry mouth is fed
Against the earth's sweet flowing bread
The tree that looks at God all day
And lifts her leaves beyond her prayer
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
Forms are made by fools like me
But only God can make a tree
But only God can make a tree
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