The monstrous things the mighty world hath kept
In reverence 'gainst the law of reverence:
The lies of Judith, Brutus' treachery,
Damon's deceit, all wiles of war.
TO A CERTAIN THREE OAKS IN DRUID HILL PARK
Let me lean against you, my Loves,
Give me a place, my darlings,
I am so happy, so fain, so full, in your large company.
I knew a saint that said he never went among men without returning home less a man than he was before he went forth. But it is not so with you: I am always more a man when I converse with you. Who is so manly and so manifold sweet as a tree? There is none that can talk like a tree: for a tree says always to me exactly that which I wish him to say. A man is apt to say what I did not desire to hear, or what I had no need to know at that time. A tree knows always my necessity.
O Earth, O mother, thou my Beautiful,