Fair pledges of a fruitful tree, / Why do ye fall so fast?

Each has his own tree of ancestors, but at the top of all sits Probably Arboreal

I saw the spiders marching through the air,Swimming from tree to tree that mildewed dayIn latter August when the hayCame creaking to the barn.

"Top" management is supposed to be a tree full of owls-hooting when management heads into the wrong part of the forest. I'm still unpersuaded they even know where the forest is.

Welcome maids of honour, / You do bring / In the Spring; / And wait upon her.

The body is the soul's poor house or home, whose ribs the laths are and whose flesh the loam.