“Up here the schooners used to come
  For timber, years ago,
See yet,” he said, “how straight and tall
  The stripling forests grow.”

It was a place where shadowed hills
  Oppressed the timid stream,
So leafy-still the ocean’s roar
  Was drowsier than a dream.

Birds chimed beside the sagging wharf
  That had no pride or care
Now that the white wings from the sea
  No longer came up there.

And all about the forest trooped
  And mountains bent their brows,
And there I saw the schooner lie
  With the salt upon her bows.

A ghost, a water-lily ship,
  (I would not swear it true)
Dreaming at anchor in the trees:
  And then it was I knew

That even a ship’s rough timbers yearn
  At times to the woods they sprung in,
To the keen green banks and the saplinged ranks
  They knew once, and were young in.

School poems

Poems of Nature