Explore "To an Oak at Newstead" by Lord Byron on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Young Oak! when I planted thee deep in the ground, / I hoped that thy days would be longer than mine; / That thy dark-waving branches would flourish around, / And ivy thy trunk with its mantle entwine.
Such, such was my hope, when in infancy's / On the land of my fathers I rear'd thee with pride; / They are past, and I water thy stem with my tears, / Thy decay not the weeds that surround thee can hide.