Explore "The Tree of Heaven" by Bliss Carman on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Young foreign-born Ailanthus, / Because he grew so fast, / We scorned his easy daring / And doubted it would last.
But lo, when autumn gathers / And all the woods are old, / He stands in green and salmon, / A glory to behold!
Among the ancient monarchs / His airy tent is spread. / His robe of coronation / Is tasseled rosy red.
With something strange and Eastern, / His height and grace proclaim / His lineage and title / Is that celestial name.
This is the Tree of Heaven, / Which seems to say to us, / "Behold how rife is beauty, / And how victorious! "