The Poetry Corner

The Ivy-Wife

By Thomas Hardy

I longed to love a full-boughed beech And be as high as he: I stretched an arm within his reach, And signalled unity. But with his drip he forced a breach, And tried to poison me. I gave the grasp of partnership To one of other race A plane: he barked him strip by strip From upper bough to base; And me therewith; for gone my grip, My arms could not enlace. In new affection next I strove To coll an ash I saw, And he in trust received my love; Till with my soft green claw I cramped and bound him as I wove . . . Such was my love: ha-ha! By this I gained his strength and height Without his rivalry. But in my triumph I lost sight Of afterhaps. Soon he, Being bark-bound, flagged, snapped, fell outright, And in his fall felled me!