The trees along this city street,
       &nbsp Save for the traffic and the trains,
Would make a sound as thin and sweet
       &nbsp As trees in country lanes.

And people standing in their shade
       &nbsp Out of a shower, undoubtedly
Would hear such music as is made
       &nbsp Upon a country tree.

Oh, little leaves that are so dumb
       &nbsp Against the shrieking city air,
I watch you when the wind has come,—
       &nbsp I know what sound is there.