I think that I shall never see<br />A poem lovely as a tree.<br /><br />A tree whose hungry mouth is pressed<br />Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;<br /><br />A tree that looks at God all day<br />And lifts her leafy arms to pray;<br /><br />A tree that may in summer wear<br />A nest of robins in her hair;<br /><br />Upon whose bosom snow has lain;<br />Who intimately lives with rain.<br /><br />Poems are made by fools like me,<br />But only God can make a tree.