"Thou that my boyhood's guide Didst take fond joy to be!— The times I've sported at thy side, And climb'd thy parent-knee! And there before the blessed shrine, My sire! I see thee lie, --How will that sad still face of thine Look on me till I die!" THE VASSAL'S LAMENT FOR THE FALLEN TREE. "Here (at Brereton in Cheshire) is one thing incredibly strange, but attested, as I myself have heard, by many persons, and commonly believed. Before any heir of this family dies, there are seen, in a lake adjoining, the bodies of trees swimming on the water for several days." Camden's Britannia. YES! I have seen the ancient oak On the dark deep water cast, And it was not fell'd by the woodman's stroke, For the axe might never touch that tree, And the air was still as a summer-sea. I saw it fall, as falls a chief By an arrrow in the fight, And the old woods shook, to their loftiest leaf, At the crashing of its might! And the startled deer to their coverts flew, And the spray of the lake as a fountain's flew ! 'Tis fall'n! but think thou not I weep For the forest's pride o'erthrown; A youthful head, with its shining hair, But on his brow the mark is set And it seem'd like sunshine when he rais'd His joyous glance to mine! With a stag's fleet step he bounded by, So full of life-but he must die! He must, he must! in that deep dell, 'Tis known that ne'er a proud tree fell, I've borne him in these arms, that now Are nerveless and unstrung; And must I see, on that fair brow, The dust untimely flung? I must!-yon green oak, branch and crest, Lies floating on the dark lake's breast! The noble boy!—how proudly sprung The falcon from his hand! It seem'd like youth to see him young, But the hour of the knell and the dirge is nigh, For the tree hath fall'n, and the flower must die. Say not 'tis vain !—I tell thee, some Or a pale bird flitting calls them home, -Woe for the fall of the glorious Tree! |