To you, my conqueror, this ivy wound In wreaths I give -- the ivy that alway Holds trees and walls close twined in spray on spray, Tendril on tendril, wrapt, embraced, and bound. It is your right to be with ivy crowned! Would it were mine to wind me, night and day, Round you, my column, in the ivy's way, And lie along your breast in love's deep swound. . . . Ah, will the time not come, will it not be -- When, just as dawn awakes the world to life, 'Neath branches of a bower thick shade encloses, Under soft skies, at prattling birds' first glee, I shall at last be conqueror in love's strife, And clasp at will your ivory and roses? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LILAC: FIRST EMOTIONS OF LOVE by ROBERT BURNS TO SIR HENRY WOTTON (1) by JOHN DONNE CORONATION by HELEN MARIA HUNT FISKE JACKSON THE WAVING OF THE CORN by SIDNEY LANIER THE ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH: BOOK 3. ON WASHING by JOHN ARMSTRONG |