There stands a tree where no man knows,

And like an earthly tree it grows,

Save that upon its branches wide

The earth and all the stars beside,

The chilly moon and the great sun,

The little planets, one by one,

Are hung like fruit to redden there

And ripen in the heavenly air.

And when the seeds are round and full

The watchful gods will come and pull

The ripened fruit from off the tree;

And then that heavenly company

Will bear the shining planets in

And garner them in a deep bin

And sort them out, and save the seed

To plant new trees in time of need.