I SAW in Louisiana a live-oak growing,
 All alone stood it, and the moss hung down from the branches;
 Without any companion it grew there, uttering joyous leaves of dark
 green,
 And its look, rude, unbending, lusty, made me think of myself;
 But I wonder'd how it could utter joyous leaves, standing alone
 there, without its friend, its lover near--for I knew I could
 not;
 And I broke off a twig with a certain number of leaves upon it, and
 twined around it a little moss,
 And brought it away--and I have placed it in sight in my room;
 It is not needed to remind me as of my own dear friends,
 (For I believe lately I think of little else than of them;)
 Yet it remains to me a curious token--it makes me think of manly
 love; 10
 For all that, and though the live-oak glistens there in Louisiana,
 solitary, in a wide flat space,
 Uttering joyous leaves all its life, without a friend, a lover, near,
 I know very well I could not.