By apple trees let him be measured, Not by pines. He has no spiked ambitions But inclines To tangle gestures, leisured, Leaf-broken lines. By fields and horizontal places, Not by hills, Nor Gothic cities judge him; He fulfils The destiny of ponds, behind the races Of old saw mills. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HOW THEY BROUGHT THE GOOD NEWS FROM GHENT TO AIX by ROBERT BROWNING WINTERTIME by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON SONG OF SLAVES IN THE DESERT by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER VERSES ADDRESSED TO IMITATOR OF FIRST SATIRE OF HORACE by MARY WORTLEY MONTAGU LAURENCE BLOOMFIELD IN IRELAND: 8. THE EVICTION by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM OH, TORTURE NOT MY SOUL! by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS JENNIE HARRIS OLIVER by THERESA DRULEY BLACK |