IF I could stand in such a plain,
With such bright sap in every vein;
Could throw upon so blue an air,
Branches so light and strong and fair;

If I could sink my roots so deep
In darkness where the spirits creep,
So broadly base, so firmly rear
My stem in such an atmosphere;

If I could balance and reveal
So utterly from head to heel
The music I was born to be,
In strophe and antistrophe;

Thou 'dst not more nobly stand and shine
Than I, proud Atlantean pine.