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