April is National Poetry Month and Poetry Daily is sending me a poem every weekday. Today's was too good not to share.
"The Lowest Trees Have Topps"
by Sir Edward Dyer (c. 1540-1607)
The lowest trees have topps, the ante her gall,
The flie her spleene, the little sparke his heat:
The slender hears cast shadows, though but small,
And bees have stinges, although they be not great;
Seas have their sourse, and soe have shallow springes:
And Love is Love, in beggars and in Kinges.
Wher waters smothest ronne, ther deepest are the foords,
The diall stirrs, yet none perceives it move;
The firmest fayth is found in fewest woordes,
The turtles doe not singe, and yet they love;
True heartes have ears and eyes, no tongues to speake:
They heare and see, and sigh, and then they breake.