My Lady Is Compared to a Young Tree (Vachel Lindsay)

Today's poem is by Vachel Lindsay - a name I had never heard of, but upon looking it up found out that he was an American poet around the 1900s who was very well regarded, was a mentor to other famous poets and was more or less promptly forgotten about once dead.

This poem today makes me think that he was kind of capable as a poet, but that in the end he is unremembered because he wrote unremarkable poetry. Cuz this poem? Boooring! The title already sets the dull tone and the poem itself does nothing to subvert it. He loves his lady - she's like a young tree in spring. Not that original and there is not much to love in this poem.

Favorite line: "My democratic queen"