Tree Poems - Poems For Tree

Poems about tree. You can read the best tree poems. Browse through all tree poems.

The Tree Of Laughing Bells - Poem by Vachel Lindsay

[A Poem for Aviators]

How the Wings Were Made

From many morning-glories
That in an hour will fade,
From many pansy buds
Gathered in the shade,
From lily of the valley
And dandelion buds,
From fiery poppy-buds
Are the Wings of the Morning made.

The Indian Girl Who Made Them

These, the Wings of the Morning,
An Indian Maiden wove,
Intertwining subtilely
Wands from a willow grove
Beside the Sangamon —
Rude stream of Dreamland Town.
She bound them to my shoulders
With fingers golden-brown.
The wings were part of me;
The willow-wands were hot.
Pulses from my heart
Healed each bruise and spot
Of the morning-glory buds,
Beginning to unfold
Beneath her burning song of suns untold.

The Indian Girl Tells the Hero Where to Go to Get the Laughing Bell

'To the farthest star of all,
Go, make a moment's raid.
To the west — escape the earth
Before your pennons fade!
West! west! o'ertake the night
That flees the morning sun.
There's a path between the stars —
A black and silent one.
O tremble when you near
The smallest star that sings:
Only the farthest star
Is cool for willow wings.

'There's a sky within the west —
There's a sky beyond the skies
Where only one star shines —
The Star of Laughing Bells —
In Chaos-land it lies;
Cold as morning-dew,
A gray and tiny boat
Moored on Chaos-shore,
Where nothing else can float
But the Wings of the Morning strong
And the lilt of laughing song
From many a ruddy throat:

'For the Tree of Laughing Bells
Grew from a bleeding seed
Planted mid enchantment
Played on a harp and reed:
Darkness was the harp —
Chaos-wind the reed;
The fruit of the tree is a bell, blood-red —
The seed was the heart of a fairy, dead.
Part of the bells of the Laughing Tree
Fell to-day at a blast from the reed.
Bring a fallen bell to me.
Go! ' the maiden said.
'For the bell will quench our memory,
Our hope,
Our borrowed sorrow;
We will have no thirst for yesterday,
No thought for to-morrow.'

The Journey Starts Swiftly

A thousand times ten thousand times
More swift than the sun's swift light
Were the Morning Wings in their flight
On — On —
West of the Universe,
Thro' the West
To Chaos-night.

He Nears the Goal

How the red bells rang
As I neared the Chaos-shore!
As I flew across to the end of the West
The young bells rang and rang
Above the Chaos roar,
And the Wings of the Morning
Beat in tune
And bore me like a bird along —
And the nearing star turned to a moon —
Gray moon, with a brow of red —
Gray moon with a golden song.

Like a diver after pearls
I plunged to that stifling floor.
It was wide as a giant's wheat-field
An icy, wind-washed shore.
O laughing, proud, but trembling star!
O wind that wounded sore!

He Climbs the Hill Where the Tree Grows

On —
Thro' the gleaming gray
I ran to the storm and clang —
To the red, red hill where the great tree swayed —
And scattered bells like autumn leaves.
How the red bells rang!
My breath within my breast
Was held like a diver's breath —
The leaves were tangled locks of gray —
The boughs of the tree were white and gray,
Shaped like scythes of Death.
The boughs of the tree would sweep and sway —
Sway like scythes of Death.
But it was beautiful!
I knew that all was well.

A thousand bells from a thousand boughs
Each moment bloomed and fell.
On the hill of the wind-swept tree
There were no bells asleep;
They sang beneath my trailing wings
Like rivers sweet and steep.
Deep rock-clefts before my feet
Mighty chimes did keep
And little choirs did keep.

He Receives the Bells

Honeyed, small and fair,
Like flowers, in flowery lands —
Like little maidens' hands —
Two bells fell in my hair,
Two bells caressed my hair.
I pressed them to my purple lips
In the strangling Chaos-air.

He Starts on the Return Journey

On desperate wings and strong,
Two bells within my breast,
I breathed again, I breathed again —
West of the Universe —
West of the skies of the West.
Into the black toward home,
And never a star in sight,
By Faith that is blind I took my way
With my two bosomed blossoms gay
Till a speck in the East was the Milky way:
Till starlit was the night.
And the bells had quenched all memory —
All hope —
All borrowed sorrow:
I had no thirst for yesterday,
No thought for to-morrow.
Like hearts within my breast
The bells would throb to me
And drown the siren stars
That sang enticingly;
My heart became a bell —
Three bells were in my breast,
Three hearts to comfort me.
We reached the daytime happily —
We reached the earth with glee.
In an hour, in an hour it was done!
The wings in their morning flight
Were a thousand times ten thousand times
More swift than beams of light.

He Gives What He Won to the Indian Girl

I panted in the grassy wood;
I kissed the Indian Maid
As she took my wings from me:
With all the grace I could
I gave two throbbing bells to her
From the foot of the Laughing Tree.
And one she pressed to her golden breast
And one, gave back to me.

From Lilies of the valley —
See them fade.
From poppy-blooms all frayed,
From dandelions gray with care,
From pansy-faces, worn and torn,
From morning-glories —
See them fade —
From all things fragile, faint and fair
Are the Wings of the Morning made!

Comments about The Tree Of Laughing Bells by Vachel Lindsay

  • Rookie Timothy Osburn (10/19/2007 10:52:00 AM)

    This poem has meant a great deal to me for so many years now. For those who do not know Lindsay's work there is a painting that goes with this poem, of the Treee of Laughing Bells, done mainly in watercolor by the poet, but with red satin for the bells on the tree in a mixed media piece from the beginning of the century. Lindsay studied art in both Chicago and New York City in the first decade of the twentieth century. You should definitely find a collected with the pictures in it and see this painting. It will chill you. (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Rookie Lily Marie (9/19/2005 10:45:00 PM)

    I have just discovered this poet, and his collection is beyond words.
    They are all so beautiful and very well written. Some even brought tears to my eyes! (Report) Reply

Read all 2 comments »

Poems About Tree

  1. 51. The Tree Of Laughing Bells , Vachel Lindsay
  2. 52. The Tree In Pamela's Garden , Edwin Arlington Robinson
  3. 53. The Fir-Tree And The Brook , Helen Hunt Jackson
  4. 54. A Tree Speaks Out! , Dr. A.Celestine Raj Manohar ..
  5. 55. The Tree That Knew Me. , Howard Johnson
  6. 56. The Orange Tree , John Shaw Neilson
  7. 57. ...Not Far From The Tree , Herbert Nehrlich
  8. 58. The Tale Of The Tiger-Tree , Vachel Lindsay
  9. 59. The Rose Tree , William Butler Yeats
  10. 60. The Tree , Karle Wilson Baker
  11. 61. The Foolish Fir-Tree , Henry Van Dyke
  12. 62. Tree , Richard Jones
  13. 63. The Blossing Of The Solitary Date-Tree , Samuel Taylor Coleridge
  14. 64. The Tree , Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
  15. 65. Oak Tree. , Bernard Shaw
  16. 66. The Mahogany Tree , William Makepeace Thackeray
  17. 67. The Bour-Tree Den , Robert Louis Stevenson
  18. 68. The Spice-Tree , Vachel Lindsay
  19. 69. The Great Oak Tree , William Schwenck Gilbert
  20. 70. The Vision The Tree That Was Me , Pearline Wagner
  21. 71. Llewellyn And The Tree , Edwin Arlington Robinson
  22. 72. The Tree , Anne Kingsmill Finch
  23. 73. Poem (‘in The Stump Of The Old Tree...’) , Hugh Sykes Davies
  24. 74. 0021 Poets' Tree , Michael Shepherd
  25. 75. 0412 The Wind And The Tree , Michael Shepherd
  26. 76. Hymn Xxiii: Extended On A Cursed Tree , John Wesley
  27. 77. My Friend Tree , Lorine Niedecker
  28. 78. I Planted A Rose Tree , Mathilde Blind
  29. 79. The Chatter Of A Death-Demon From A Tree.. , Stephen Crane
  30. 80. Battlefield Tree , Lucy Burrow
  31. 81. On Promising Fruitfulness Of A Tree , John Bunyan
  32. 82. The Tree Of Song , Sara Teasdale
  33. 83. No Christmas Tree Where It Should Be , David Keig
  34. 84. The Bacon Tree , Chuck Audette
  35. 85. A Catalpa Tree On West Twelfth Street , Amy Clampitt
  36. 86. The Littlest Tree , Scarlett Treat
  37. 87. Tree, Old Tree Of The Triple Crook , William Ernest Henley
  38. 88. Christmas Part 1 - Christmas Tree , David Harris
  39. 89. Family Tree , Dwayne Earle Gordon
  40. 90. A Poet's Tree , David Taylor
  41. 91. She Slept Beneath A Tree , Emily Dickinson
  42. 92. Upon The Vine Tree , John Bunyan
  43. 93. Cuckoo In The Pear-Tree , William Brighty Rands
  44. 94. There Was A Cherry-Tree , James Whitcomb Riley
  45. 95. To The Tree Outside My Window At The Old.. , Max Reif
  46. 96. The Strange Tree , Daegal
  47. 97. Our Tree , Marchette Chute
  48. 98. The Christmas Tree , Robert William Service
  49. 99. On A Great Hollow Tree , William Strode
  50. 100. Upon The Barren Fig-Tree In God's Vineyard , John Bunyan
[Report Error]