I think that I shall never see , a poem lovely as a tree . A tree whose hungry mouth is pressed, against the earth ' s sweet flowing breast; a tree that looks at God all day, and lifts her leafy arms to pray. A tree that may in summer wear, a nest of robins in her hair. Upon whose bosom snow has lain; who intimately lives with rain. Poem are made by fools like me, but only God can make a tree.