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NEW FOREST THE two executioners stalk along over the knolls, Bearing two axes with heavy heads shining and wide, And a long limp two-handled saw toothed for cutting great boles, And so they approach the proud tree that bears the death-mark on its side. Jackets doffed they swing axes and chop away just above ground, And the chips fly about and lie white on the moss and fallen leaves; Till a broad deep gash in the bark is hewn all the way round, And one of them tries to hook upward a rope, which at last he achieves. The saw then begins, till the top of the tall giant shivers : The shivers are seen to grow greater each cut than before: They edge out the saw, tug the rope; but the tree only quivers, And kneeling and sawing again, they step back to try pulling once more. Then, lastly, the living mast sways, further sways: with a shout Job and Ike rush aside. Reached the end of its long staying powers The tree crashes downward: it shakes all its neighbours throughout, And two hundred years' steady growth has been ended in less than two hours.

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