Written from the perspective of Ted Hughes, her husband, after her death.
And Ariel smiled at me
Tooth-marked cheek,
.....oh, so cheeked--
with pushing poles down wet velvet;
There, riverside, was a tree.
A tum-tum tree.
and I, oh me, looked to the
star in your eye, the east, and took
its current to Innisfree.
Left hell behind, with its
tongues stuck
in your jaw, pulling, pulling free.
And Ariel smiled at me.
Where we passed lime hills, that rolled
to meet lime trees.
Never was envy so pretty as then,
when Ariel smiled at me.
I could see through the Bell Jar, glass thick
but fever-warm,
and you stared and stared at me.
And let the pills crawl past your teeth.
Eight-legged and yellow, they laughed as
they twisted the stuck-tongues free.
The river bent up with your mouth, and you
sank, sank past your feet.
Sighed, and were sick, puked
pink lungs, and I
cried, cried, Oh Please.
You begged me to let you sleep.
I pillowed your head on an oven rack,
and you sank to Innisfree. But,
looking back, shook your head;
and with a frown upside-down, you said,
you said, 'You wouldn't know me from Eve.'
