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.

Added: on October 5th, 2005 at 8:16 PM | Viewed: 5082 times | Comments (5)

Poet: Walt Whitman
Poem: 17. I saw in Louisiana a Live Oak Growing.
Volume: Leaves of Grass
- 3. Calamus
Year: Published/Written in 1900

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