I think of thee!—my thoughts do twine and budAbout thee, as wild vines about a tree,—Put out broad leaves, and soon there's nought to seeExcept the straggling green which hides the wood.Yet, O my palm-tree, be it understoodI will not have my thoughts instead of theeWho art dearer, better! Rather instantlyRenew thy presence! As a strong tree should,Rustle thy boughs, and set thy trunk all bare,And let these bands of greenery which insphere thee,Drop heavily down, . . burst, shattered, everywhere!Because, in this deep joy to see and hear theeAnd breathe within thy shadow a new air,I do not think of thee—I am too near thee.