THE IVY GREEN by Charles Dickens
"Oh, a dainty plant is the Ivy green,
That creepeth o'er ruins old!
Of right choice food are his meals, I ween,
In his cell so lone and cold.
The wall must be crumbled, the stone decayed,
To pleasure his dainty whim:
And the mouldering dust that years have made
Is a merry meal for him.
Creeping where no life is seen,
A rare old plant is the Ivy green. ..."
"Oh, a dainty plant is the Ivy green,
That creepeth o'er ruins old!
Of right choice food are his meals, I ween,
In his cell so lone and cold.
The wall must be crumbled, the stone decayed,
To pleasure his dainty whim:
And the mouldering dust that years have made
Is a merry meal for him.
Creeping where no life is seen,
A rare old plant is the Ivy green. ..."
I've always liked Charles Dickens' poem "The Ivy Green" with its images of the verdant leaves creeping over dilapidated ruins. Watching Dylan try to swing, like Tarzan, on our ivy in the backyard reminded me of these large leaf elements that I've had for some time.
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