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  I think that I shall never see
 A poem as lovely as a tree.

 A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
 Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;

   A tree that looks at God all day,
 And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

 A tree that may in Summer wear
 A nest of robins in her hair;

   Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.

 Poems are made by fools like me,
 But only God can make a tree.

        Author:Sergeant Joyce Kilmer.

Sergeant Joyce Kilmer served in the 165th Regiment of the 45th Division
He was killed in action in the Second Battle of the Marne on July 30th,1918.
He was awarded a Posthumous Croix de Guerre and interred in France.