From where we rest I see the trees
And marvel how its size has shrunk
Since I (the young and supple me)
Slid agile round its roughened trunk.
And see, where we, at seventeen
Imbued with love carved both our names,
Cold magic lasts and we then seen
Thus interwoven are time unchanged.
But we diverged within that week
(Before the bark began to heal)
And sap in place of tears flowed free-
O callous youths! We could not feel.
The elm grew tall and you returned,
The incident with me forgotten;
You pledged your troth beneath the tree
And low, behold, begotten-
Your little Jonney loved the park,
Amoung the trees he grew and played;
But one especially caught his heart-
The one as children we had flayed.
The limbs are big now. Shade is wide,
The luscious leaves blot out the sun;
The bark has grown to heal the side-
Alas! Poor Jane and I are one.
The heavy tree so forces down-
John's children swing and jump and jar-
The riving roots clasp us all around
And taste like spittle-end cigars.