FOREST FOR THE TREES
FOREST FOR THE TREES Beside the river's branch, he can not leave, and here must stick, all green and brown. Naught he pines, with colours ash, nor willowy weeps, though rooted down. Winds may bark, he humbly bows, though needled thick, logs not a frown. No timbred voice, bemoans wearied limbs, for... Sign in to see full entry.