As deep down as the boughs above aspire:
All that he did was—shake to the tree's foot
"Leafage and fruitage, things we most require
For shadow and refreshment: which good deed
Thoroughly done, behold the axe-haft tires
"His hand, and he desisting leaves unfreed
The vine he hacked and hewed for. Comes a frost,
One natural night's work, and there 's little need
"Of hacking, hewing: lo, the tree 's a ghost!
Perished it starves, black death from topmost bough