The Oak
Alfred Tennyson
Live thy life,
Young and old,
Like yon oak,
Bright in spring,
Living gold;
Summer-rich
Then, and then
Autumn-changed
Soberer-hued
Gold again.
All his leaves
Fall'n at length
Look, he stands,
Trunk and bough
Naked strength.
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Seems some of Alfred’s stuff wasn’t much better than the folk on WordPress. 🙂
David, thanks for the comment. Enjoying hearing everyone’s perception. Have a great day. Ray