Trees, and Other Poems

Name: Trees, and Other Poems
Author: Joyce Kilmer

by Joyce Kilmer

Pages: about 15
Category: Literature & Fiction
Language: English
Reading time: 17 min at 250 wpm

Start readingThe whole book, as cards or one word at a time. 9 min at 450 wpm in Read mode.

From the opening

While you go dashing through the land With loveliness on every hand.
Your whistle strikes my eager ears Like music of the choiring spheres.
The mighty earth grows faint and reels Beneath your thundering wagon wheels.
How happy she who by your side May share the splendors of that ride!
Ah, if you will not take my hand And bear me off across the land,
What other maiden can you find So young and delicate and kind?"
Her lips' remark was: "Oh, you kid!" Her soul spoke thus (I know it did).
From what old ballad, or from what rich frame Did you descend to glorify the earth? Was it from Chaucer's singing book you came? Or did Watteau's small brushes give you birth?
Nothing so exquisite as that slight hand Could Raphael or Leonardo trace. Nor could the poets know in Fairyland The changing wonder of your lyric face.
I would possess a host of lovely things, But I am poor and such joys may not be. So God who lifts the poor and humbles kings Sent loveliness itself to dwell with me.
When I am tired of earnest men, Intense and keen and sharp and clever, Pursuing fame with brush or pen Or counting metal disks forever, Then from the halls of Shadowland Beyond the trackless purple sea Old Martin's ghost comes back to stand Beside my desk and talk to me.
Still on his delicate pale face A quizzical thin smile is showing, His cheeks are wrinkled like fine lace, His kind blue eyes are gay and glowing. He wears a brilliant-hued cravat, A suit to match his soft grey hair, A rakish stick, a knowing hat, A manner blithe and debonair.
How good that he who always knew That being lovely was a duty, Should have gold halls to wander through And should himself inhabit beauty. How like his old unselfish way To leave those halls of splendid mirth And comfort those condemned to stay Upon the dull and sombre earth.

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Trees, and Other Poems

From the opening

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