Tree, Old Tree of the Triple Crook <br />And the rope of the Black Election, <br />'Tis the faith of the Fool that a race you rule <br />Can never achieve perfection: <br />So 'It's O, for the time of the new Sublime <br />And the better than human way, <br />When the Rat (poor beast) shall come to his own <br />And the Wolf shall have his day!' <br /> <br />For Tree, Old Tree of the Triple Beam <br />And the power of provocation, <br />You have cockered the Brute with your dreadful fruit <br />Till your fruit is mere stupration: <br />And 'It's how should we rise to be pure and wise, <br />And how can we choose but fall, <br />So long as the Hangman makes us dread, <br />And the Noose floats free for all?' <br /> <br />So Tree, Old Tree of the Triple Coign <br />And the trick there's no recalling, <br />They will haggle and hew till they hack you through <br />And at last they lay you sprawling: <br />When 'Hey! for the hour of the race in flower <br />And the long good-bye to sin!' <br />And for the lack the fires of Hell gone out <br />Of the fuel to keep them in!' <br /> <br />But Tree, Old Tree of the Triple Bough <br />And the ghastly Dreams that tend you, <br />Your growth began with the life of Man, <br />And only his death can end you. <br />They may tug in line at your hempen twine, <br />They may flourish with axe and saw; <br />But your taproot drinks of the Sacred Springs <br />In the living rock of Law. <br /> <br />And Tree, Old Tree of the Triple Fork, <br />When the spent sun reels and blunders <br />Down a welkin lit with the flare of the Pit <br />As it seethes in spate and thunders, <br />Stern on the glare of the tortured air <br />Your lines august shall gloom, <br />And your master-beam be the last thing whelmed <br />In the ruining roar of Doom.<br /><br />William Ernest Henley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/tree-old-tree-of-the-triple-crook/
