The Music of a Tree

Once, walking home, I passed beneath a Tree,

It filled the air like dark stone statuary,

It was so quiet and still,

Its thick green leaves a hill

Of strange and faint earth-branching melody:

Over a wall it hung its leaf-starred wood.

And as I lonely there beneath it stood,

In that sky-hollow street

Where rang no human feet,

Sweet music flowed and filled me with its flood;

And all my weariness then fell away,

The houses were more lovely than by day;

The Moon and that old Tree

Sang there; and secretly,

With throbbing heart, tip-toe I stole away.