I lean to the tree that is leaning to me;
We touch, and our branches twine.
Our budding-song grows stunning and strong;
Her flowers of love are mine.

Her “hands” so fair in my winding “hair”
Fill them with life and Spring.
The breeze in our branches dallies and dances;
The “words” of the birdies sing.

We sway together in Maytime weather;
We lighten the sky as flame.
In time with flowers we rhyme for hours,
Our rhythm of life the same.

We burst on the hills above the old chills;
We beckon with spangled arms.
To passion of men we fling out again
The pride of our peerless charms.

To lovers that gasp, oh! how we clasp!
Urging half kisses near.
To lips that decide, to triumph new-tried,
We puff out a pom-pom cheer!

The dance of the world in their whole arms curled,
The light, the height, and the way,
Swings hard to the earth to sweep the heart’s worth
And moans with the music of May.

They live, they are one, they are free in the sun;
We stre–tch out our leaves and sigh.
The flowering might of love’s spiritual height
Sways in the brow-bowed sky!