I SAW in Louisiana a live-oak growing, <br /> All alone stood it, and the moss hung down from the branches; <br /> Without any companion it grew there, uttering joyous leaves of dark <br /> green, <br /> And its look, rude, unbending, lusty, made me think of myself; <br /> But I wonder'd how it could utter joyous leaves, standing alone <br /> there, without its friend, its lover near--for I knew I could <br /> not; <br /> And I broke off a twig with a certain number of leaves upon it, and <br /> twined around it a little moss, <br /> And brought it away--and I have placed it in sight in my room; <br /> It is not needed to remind me as of my own dear friends, <br /> (For I believe lately I think of little else than of them;) <br /> Yet it remains to me a curious token--it makes me think of manly <br /> love; 10 <br /> For all that, and though the live-oak glistens there in Louisiana, <br /> solitary, in a wide flat space, <br /> Uttering joyous leaves all its life, without a friend, a lover, near, <br /> I know very well I could not.<br /><br />Walt Whitman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-saw-in-louisiana-a-live-oak-growing-2/
