Three old oaks stand close together, their raised branches like arms beckoning someone to shelter beneath their leaves. At first, the scene has a strange, almost welcoming pull. But the speaker remembers lying in the centre of the three trees long ago, when a rotten branch suddenly snapped and fell near him. That memory changes everything. He refuses to go back, saying their branches are too black for his liking. The danger stays half-unspoken: the trees may be old, decaying, or threatening in a way he cannot fully explain. The mood is quiet but uneasy, mixing invitation with warning. What seemed like a peaceful grove now feels shadowed by a close call, and the speaker’s refusal to return gives the poem a subdued, superstitious edge.
The Three Oaks — Summary
There are three ancient oaks, That grow near to each other.
They lift their branches High as beckoning With outstretched arms, For some one to come and stand Under the canopy of their leaves.
Once long ago I remember As I lay in the very centre, Between them: A rotten branch suddenly fell Near to me.
I will not go back to those oaks: Their branches are too black for my liking.