Vachel Lindsay: My Lady Is Compared to a Young Tree

Vachel Lindsay
(1879 – 1931)

My Lady Is Compared to a Young Tree

When I see a young tree
In its white beginning,
With white leaves
And white buds
Barely tipped with green,
In the April weather,
In the weeping sunshine—
Then I see my lady,
My democratic queen,
Standing free and equal
With the youngest woodland sapling
Swaying, singing in the wind,
Delicate and white:
Soul so near to blossom,
Fragile, strong as death;
A kiss from far-off Eden,
A flash of Judgment’s trumpet—
April’s breath.

Vachel Lindsay poetry
• fleursdumal.nl magazine

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