The Holly Tree
The red little berries few by few
and singly all about the tree
set out the loveliness in you
that must deride all words from me.
The thrusting green leaves everywhere
that indefinably twist and shine
are actions – yours – that thrill the air
and cast a shadow back on mine.
And so the sun sits in the leaves
dispelling care, that I disdain
to mark what darkens me and grieves –
and so they glisten in the rain.
And day and minute, week and hour
in time’s array, on either hand
are we included in love’s power.
To witness this the branches stand.
O when youth die, and beauty too,
and all’s near dark, still may this tree
blazon the loveliness of you –
speak words of gratitude from me.