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Poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox


Go Plant a Tree


God, what a joy it is to plant a tree, 
And from the sallow earth to watch it rise, 
Lifting its emerald branches to the skies 
In silent adoration; and to see 
Its strength and glory waxing with each spring. 
Yes, ’tis a goodly, and a gladsome thing 
To plant a tree. 

Nature has many marvels; but a tree 
Seems more than marvellous. It is divine. 
So generous, so tender, so benign. 
Not garrulous like the rivers; and yet free 
In pleasant converse with the winds and birds; 
Oh! privilege beyond explaining words, 
To plant a tree. 

Rocks are majestic; but, unlike a tree, 
They stand aloof, and silent. In the roar 
Of ocean billows breaking on the shore 
There sounds the voice of turmoil. But a tree 
Speaks ever of companionship and rest. 
Yea, of all righteous acts, this, this is best, 
To plant a tree. 

There is an oak (oh! how I love that tree) 
Which has been thriving for a hundred years; 
Each day I send my blessing through the spheres 
To one who gave this triple boon to me, 
Of growing beauty, singing birds, and shade. 
Wouldst thou win laurels that shall never fade?



Ella Wheeler Wilcox


Ella Wheeler Wilcox's other poems:
  1. The Birth of the Orchid
  2. The Black Charger
  3. At Set of Sun
  4. The Call (All wantonly in hours of joy)
  5. Be Not Attached


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