I love the earth through my two eyes,
   Like any butterfly or bee;
The hidden roots escape my thoughts,
   I love but what I see.

A tree has lovely limbs, I know,
   Both large and strong, down under earth;
But all my thoughts are in the boughs,
   That give the green leaves birth.

My friend, his thought goes deeper down,
   Beneath the roots, while mine's above:
He's thinking of a quiet place
   To sleep with his dead Love.