There is a tree that I have found
On a ridge above the Sound
With a gnarled trunk and a crown of leaves
And ropes of ivy winding round

I have seen when walking past
These ropes are strong, their knots hold fast
No bulging bark can break their grip
These winding sprouts are meant to last

The ivy pierced the deepest root
When the tree was but an infant shoot
Now nothing can break its hold
Not summer heat or winter cold

Not thundering clouds nor the ocean’s flow
Crashing on the rocks below
Nor any act of man or God
Can make the twisting ties let go

When, walking by, I see these two
Bound by ropes no hand can undo
I hurry past and hide my face
Jealous of their strong embrace

Perhaps someday I will find
Ropes of ivy that ‘round me wind
And we will stand there, tightly bound
On a ridge above the Sound