 | The Burden of the Bell and Other Lyrics |  |
51
THE SONG OF THE IVY.
“Ha, ha!” laughed the Ivy—“let poets sing
Of the oak, and erown him the forest king:
Let them sing of the elm, for his lordly height,
And the birch, for his bark so smooth and white,
Let them praise the chesnut, for majesty,
And the willow, for beauty—but what care I?
Beauteous, and stately, and strong, and tall,—
I conquer them all—I conquer them all!”
Of the oak, and erown him the forest king:
Let them sing of the elm, for his lordly height,
And the birch, for his bark so smooth and white,
Let them praise the chesnut, for majesty,
And the willow, for beauty—but what care I?
Beauteous, and stately, and strong, and tall,—
I conquer them all—I conquer them all!”
“Ha, ha!” laughed the Ivy—“let men uprear
Castles and palaces far and near;
Pile upon pile let their fabrics rise,
Darkening the earth and mocking the skies,
Lifting their turrets so haughtily,
Boasting their grandeur—but what care I?
Buttress, and bastion, and topmost wall—
I conquer them all—I conquer them all!”
Castles and palaces far and near;
Pile upon pile let their fabrics rise,
Darkening the earth and mocking the skies,
Lifting their turrets so haughtily,
Boasting their grandeur—but what care I?
Buttress, and bastion, and topmost wall—
I conquer them all—I conquer them all!”
52
“Ha, ha!” laughed the Ivy—“old Time to me
Hath given the glory and mastery:
So poets may sing, if it like them well,
From early matins till vesper bell;
And others may list to their minstrelsy,—
I've a song of my own, so(^) what care I?
Beauteous, and stately, and strong, and tall,—
I conquer them all—I conquer them all!”
Hath given the glory and mastery:
So poets may sing, if it like them well,
From early matins till vesper bell;
And others may list to their minstrelsy,—
I've a song of my own, so(^) what care I?
Beauteous, and stately, and strong, and tall,—
I conquer them all—I conquer them all!”
| The Burden of the Bell and Other Lyrics | |