The Horse Chestnut Tree
Listen to: The Horse Chestnut Tree Oh, horse chestnut tree, friend of my tender years, By autumn's sunlight how sublime you seem. Unspoiled by time or bleeding canker’s lesions, You stand in perfect mellow beauty poised, Amid this season’s early falling leaves. Do you remember me—the guiltless child, Who played each endless-seeming summer's day, Beneath your broad, full-leafed and rounded crown, Awaiting autumn's amber-turning leaves, To gather your gift to life—your spiny husks? In waking, stirring breezes, I tossed sticks At your low boughs that bent toward the earth, To cause your pricking, bright green fruit to fall For birds and creatures small to feed, and me To peel, and hoard the shining seeds within. Now, as I stand beneath your boughs, once more Among your rustling leaves, I hear your voice: I remember your lonely childhood games; I’d smile at each affronted pigeon’s call, And the wise, plump brown tawny owl stayed hid; I welcomed you and your gambolling dog, An