The poem
The Maple with its tassell flowers of green That turns to red, a stag horn shapèd seed Just spreading out its scallopped leaves is seen, Of yellowish hue yet beautifully green. Bark ribb'd like corderoy in seamy screed That farther up the stem is smoother seen, Where the white hemlock with white umbel flowers Up each spread stoven to the branches towers And mossy round the stoven spread dark green And blotched leaved orchis and the blue-bell flowers— Thickly they grow and neath the leaves are seen. I love to see them gemm'd with morning hours. I love the lone green places where they be And the sweet clothing of the Maple tree.