My Tree
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Tree, so big and stout and strong.
You've lived so very, very long
A hundred years or more, I'm told
And yet you're not so very old.
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A hundred secrets you could tell
Of children whom you love so well,
Who came and sat beneath your shade,
Or underneath your branches played.
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A hundred birds have built their nests.
Your leaves have softly kissed their breast,
Your branches seem to touch the sky,
Yet you were once as small as I
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Some day when I have grown up, too,
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what you need to ask good questions......
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