Under the Tree   By: Elizabeth Madox Roberts (1881-1941)

And over and over I tried to see Some of us walking under the tree,

And how it looks when I am there.

From On the Hill

UNDER THE TREE

BY

ELIZABETH MADOX ROBERTS

NEW YORK B. W. HUEBSCH, INC. MCMXXII

COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY B. W. HUEBSCH, INC.

PRINTED IN U. S. A.

TO MY FATHER

SIMPSON ROBERTS

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Certain of these poems have appeared in The Atlantic Monthly , The University Record (the University of Chicago), Poetry, a Magazine of Verse , Child Life , and the Phoenix . The author thanks the editors of these journals for the privilege of reprinting.

CONTENTS

PAGE

THE SKY 1

THE CORNFIELD 3

MILKING TIME 4

IN MY PILLOW 6

MISS KATE MARIE 8

THE WOODPECKER 10

THE STAR 11

THE BUTTERBEAN TENT 12

BIG BROTHER 14

MR. WELLS 15

DICK AND WILL 16

THE PILASTER 18

FIREFLY 19

LITTLE RAIN 20

THE PULPIT 22

ON THE HILL 24

AUTUMN 26

THE RABBIT 28

CRESCENT MOON 29

FATHER'S STORY 30

CHRISTMAS MORNING 32

PEOPLE GOING BY 35

BABES IN THE WOODS 38

THE PICNIC 40

MUMPS 42

THE CIRCUS 44

STRANGE TREE 46

THE BRANCH 48

THE WORM 50

A CHILD ASLEEP 52

LITTLE BUSH 54

AT THE WATER 55

WATER NOISES 56

AMONG THE RUSHES 58

NUMBERS 59

IN THE NIGHT 60

THE PEOPLE 63

THE GRANDMOTHER 64

IN MARYLAND 66

THE SUNDAY BONNET 68

THE SUN AND A BIRCH TREE 70

A LITTLE WIND 71

AUTUMN FIELDS 72

MR. PENNYBAKER AT CHURCH 74

THE WOLVES 75

A BEAUTIFUL LADY 76

SHELLS IN ROCK 78

HORSE 80

AUGUST NIGHT 82

THREE DOMINICAN NUNS 84

MY HEART 85

THE HENS 86

THE SKY

I saw a shadow on the ground And heard a bluejay going by; A shadow went across the ground, And I looked up and saw the sky.

It hung up on the poplar tree, But while I looked it did not stay; It gave a tiny sort of jerk And moved a little bit away.

And farther on and farther on It moved and never seemed to stop. I think it must be tied with chains And something pulls it from the top.

It never has come down again, And every time I look to see, The sky is always slipping back And getting far away from me.

THE CORNFIELD

I went across the pasture lot When not a one was watching me. Away beyond the cattle barns I climbed a little crooked tree.

And I could look down on the field And see the corn and how it grows Across the world and up and down In very straight and even rows.