I think that I shall never see

A poem lovely as a tree—

A tree whose lovely mouth is prest

Against the Earth’s sweet flowing breast::

A tree that looks at God all day

And lifts her leafy arms to pray:

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.

Poems are made by fools like me,

But only God can make a tree.

–Joyce Kilmer