THE fire advances along the log Of the tree we felled, Which bloomed and bore striped apples by the peck Till its last hour of bearing knelled. The fork that first my hand would reach And then my foot In climbings upward inch by inch, lies now Sawn, sapless, darkening with soot. Where the bark chars is where, one year, It was pruned, and bled - Then overgrew the wound. But now, at last, Its growings all have stagnated. My fellow-climber rises dim From her chilly grave - Just as she was, her foot near mine on the bending limb, Laughing, her young brown hand awave. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AMERICA TO GREAT BRITAIN by WASHINGTON ALLSTON THE LAND OF COUNTERPANE by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON TO MY FRIENDS, WHO RIDICULED A TENDER LEAVE-TAKING by MATTHEW ARNOLD THREE SONGS OF LOVE (CHINESE FASHION): 1. THE MANDARIN SPEAKS by WILLIAM A. BEATTY PSALM 82 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE DEMON by ALEXANDER (ALEKSANDR) ALEXANDROVICH BLOK STRADA'S NIGHTINGALE by VINCENT BOURNE THE PATH by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON THE BUSTS OF GOETHE AND SCHILLER IN WALHALLA by WILLIAM ALLEN BUTLER |