



- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [begin page 134] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -







I saw in Louisiana a Live-Oak Growing.





I SAW in Louisiana a live-oak growing,

All alone stood it, and the moss hung down from the

branches;

Without any companion it grew there, uttering joyous

leaves of dark green,

And its look, rude, unbending, lusty, made me think

of myself;

But I wonder'd how it could utter joyous leaves,

standing alone there, without its friend, its

lover near—for I knew I could not;

And I broke off a twig with a certain number of

leaves upon it, and twined around it a little

moss,

And brought it away—and I have placed it in sight in

my room;

It is not needed to remind me as of my own dear

friends,

(For I believe lately I think of little else than of

them;)

Yet it remains to me a curious token—it makes me

think of manly love;

—For all that, and though the live-oak glistens there

in Louisiana, solitary, in a wide flat space,

Uttering joyous leaves all its life, without a friend, a

lover, near,

I know very well I could not.