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's poem "My Lady Is Compared to a Young Tree" was published in the 1919 Others anthology (published in 1920). To read this poem in this publication context, follow the link below: