The Character of Trees

There is a sadness in the Birch In Autumn with the fall of leaves. So silently, so no one hears She sheds her golden tears. There is a steadfastness in Oak, It spreads its giant lofty limbs In widening arcs for all to see; A venerable mighty tree. There is a softness in the Larch Its feathery leaves cascading down In waterfalls towards the ground; Small fir-cones scattered all around. There is a proudness in the Plane. This city dweller stands aloof, Cheats pollution with pealing bark In roadside verge or formal park. There is a beauty in the Beech; It has the greenest leaves in Spring, So small and delicate and bright, Unfurling in the early light. Eternal hope is in the Yew Immortal in the cemetery, Transcending death, it speaks of life For souls who leave this world of strife.