quote · Legacy record

I heard the language of the trees, In the noons of the early summer; As the leaves were moved like rippling seas By the wind—a constant comer. It came and it went at its wanton will; And evermore loved to dally, With branch and flower, from the cope of the hill To the warm depths of the valley. The sunlight glow’d; the water flow’d; The birds their music chanted, And the words of the trees on my senses fell— By a spirit of Beauty haunted:— Said each to each, in mystic speech:— “The skies our branches nourish;— The world is good,—the world is fair,— Let us enjoy and flourish!” Again I heard the steadfast trees; The wintry winds were blowing; There seem’d a roar as of stormy seas, And of ships to the depths down-going. And ever a moan through the woods was blown, As the branches snapp’d asunder, And the long boughs swung like the frantic arms Of a crowd in affright and wonder, Heavily rattled the driving hail; And storm and flood combining, Laid bare the roots of mighty oaks Under the shingle twining. Said tree to tree, “These tempests free Our sap and strength shall nourish; Though the world be hard—though the world be cold— We can endure and flourish.”

I heard the language of the trees, In the noons of the early summer; As the leaves were moved like rippling seas By the wind—a constant comer. It came and it went at its wanton will; And evermore loved to dally, With branch and flower, from the cope of the hill To the warm depths of the valley. The sunlight glow’d; the water flow’d; The birds their music chanted, And the words of the trees on my senses fell— By a spirit of Beauty haunted:— Said each to each, in mystic speech:— “The skies our branches nourish;— The world is good,—the world is fair,— Let us enjoy and flourish!” Again I heard the steadfast trees; The wintry winds were blowing; There seem’d a roar as of stormy seas, And of ships to the depths down-going. And ever a moan through the woods was blown, As the branches snapp’d asunder, And the long boughs swung like the frantic arms Of a crowd in affright and wonder, Heavily rattled the driving hail; And storm and flood combining, Laid bare the roots of mighty oaks Under the shingle twining. Said tree to tree, “These tempests free Our sap and strength shall nourish; Though the world be hard—though the world be cold— We can endure and flourish.”

Approximate author period: c. 1814 AD · industrial