The Ivy Green Poem by Charles Dickens
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.
Fast he stealeth on, though he wears no wings,
And a staunch old heart has he.
How closely he twineth, how tight he clings
To his friend the huge Oak Tree!
And slyly he traileth along the ground,
And his leaves he gently waves,
As he joyously hugs and crawleth round
The rich mould of dead men's graves.
Creeping where grim death hath been,
A rare old plant is the Ivy green.
Whole ages have fled and their works decayed,
And nations have scattered been;
But the stout old Ivy shall never fade,
From its hale and hearty green.
The brave old plant, in its lonely days,
Shall fatten upon the past:
For the stateliest building man can raise
Is the Ivy's food at last.
Creeping on where time has been,
A rare old plant is the Ivy green.
a climbing vine or any of various other climbing or trailing plants having smooth, shiny, evergreen leaves, small, yellowish flowers, and black berries, grown as an ornamental creeping on where time has been.......so beautifully scripted deserves worth reading.....thanks for sharing
Charles Dickens has wonderfully depicted the ivy plants way of living creeping over oak tree or age old building! It is a wonderful poem to read for its wonderful descriptive beauty!
Mast poem hai yar gajabmere project me bhi khoob kam ayyi thank you☺😊😇😇
An immaculate philosophy of life comes to fore in the face of 'The Ivy Green'. Thanks.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 9:40:32 PM # 1.0.0.1119
You can hear Charles Dickens the novelist in this poem- I love reading Dickens- he is such a sweet sentimentalist and doesn't mind going for the tears! Enjoyed reading this but I have to say that modern poetry is more my bag... but let's not tell Dickens.