Of all our garden-trees that I had chosen.
Rhod.
The thickest one! Maybe; but certain ’tis
The one that stood the nearest to the wall.
Hero.
The thickest one of all! I clambered up
And pierced into a very night of green.
’Twas well-nigh eerie when the golden day
Was thus behind me left, and in the darkness
I still crept on.