Seite 8 - ArtBook

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Tree atmyWindow
Tree atmywindow, window tree,
My sash is loweredwhen night comes on;
But let there never be curtain drawn
Between you andme.
Vague dream-head lifted out of the ground,
And thing nextmost diffuse to cloud,
Not all your light tongues talking aloud
Could be profound.
But tree, I have seen you taken and tossed,
And if you have seenmewhen I slept,
You have seenmewhen I was taken and swept
And all but lost.
That day she put our heads together,
Fate had her imagination about her,
Your head somuch concernedwith outer,
Minewith inner, weather.
Robert Frost