GREEN is the plane-tree in the square, The other trees are brown ; They droop and pine for country air ; The plane-tree loves the town. Here from my garret-pane, I mark The plane-tree bud and blow, Shed her recuperative bark, And spread her shade below. Among her branches, in and out, The city breezes play ; The dun fog wraps her round about ; Above, the smoke curls grey. Others the country take for choice, And hold the town in scorn ; But she has listened to the voice On city breezes borne. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SEALS IN PENOBSCOT BAY by KAREN SWENSON PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR by JAMES DAVID CORROTHERS THE PLANTATION CHILD'S LULLABY by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR WHEN HE WOULD HAVE HIS VERSES READ by ROBERT HERRICK JIM DALLEY by ALEXANDER ANDERSON BLOUDIE JACKE OF SHREWSBERRIE; THE SHROPSHIRE BLUEBEARD by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM |