THE ELDEN TREE.

A FEAST was spread in the Baron's hall,
And loud was the merry sound,
As minstrels played at lady's call,
And the cup went sparkling round.

For gentle dames sat there, I trow,
By men of mickle might,

And many a chief with dark-red brow,
And many a burly knight.

Each had fought in war's grim ranks,
And some on the surgy sea,

And some on Jordan's sacred banks,
For the cause of Christentie.

But who thinks now of blood or strife,
Or Moorish or Paynim foe?

Their eyes beam bright with social life,
And their hearts with kindness glow.

Aye, certes, 'tis an hour of glee,

For the Baron himself doth smile, And nods his head right cheerily, And quaffs his cup the while.

*

What recks he now of midnight fear,
Or the night-wind's dismal moan?
As it tosses the boughs of that Elden Tree,
Which he thinketh so oft upon?

Long years have past since a deed was done,
By its doer only seen,

And there lives not a man beneath the sun, Who wotteth that deed hath been.

So gay was he, so gay were all,

They mark'd not the growing gloom; Nor wist they how the dark'ning hall Lower'd like the close of doom.

Dull grew the goblet's sheen, and grim
The features of every guest,
And colorless banners aloft hung dim,
Like the clouds of the drizzly west.

Hath time pass'd then so swift of pace?
Is this the twilight grey?

A flash of light pass'd thro' the place,
Like the glaring noon of day.

Fierce glanced the momentary blaze
O'er all the gallant train,

And each visage pale, with dazzled gaze,

At length, in the waning tempest's fall,

As light from the welkin broke,
A frighten'd man rush'd thro' the hall,
And words to the Baron spoke.

"The thunder hath stricken your tree so fair, "Its roots on green-sward lie,”

“What tree ?” "The Elden planted there "Some thirty years gone by."

"And wherefore starest thou on me so,

"With a face so ghastly wild?".

-

"White bones are found in the mould below, "Like the bones of a stripling child.”

Pale he became as the shrouded dead,
And his eye-balls fix'd as stone;
And down on his bosom dropp'd his head,
And he utter'd a stifled groan.

Then from the board, each guest amazed,
Sprang up, and curiously

Upon his sudden misery gazed,

And wonder'd what might be.

Out spoke the ancient seneschal, 66 I pray ye stand apart,

"Both gentle dames and nobles all, "This grief is at his heart.

"Go, call St. Cuthbert's monk with speed,
"And let him be quickly shriven,
"And fetch ye a leech for his body's need,
"To dight him for earth or heaven."

"No, fetch me a priest," the Baron said,
In a voice that seem'd uttered with pain;
And he shudder'd and shrunk, as he faintly bade
His noble guests remain.

"Heaven's eye each secret deed doth scan,

"Heaven's justice all should fear:

"What I confess to the holy man,

"Both Heaven and you shall hear."

And soon St. Cuthbert's monk stood by,
With visage sad but sweet,

And cast on the Baron a piteous eye,
And the Baron knelt low at his feet.

"O Father! I have done a deed

"Which God alone did know;

"A brother's blood these hands have shed, "With many a fiend-like blow:

"For fiends lent strength like a powerful charm, "And my youthful breast impell'd,

“And I laugh'd to see beneath my arm "The sickly stripling quell'd.

"A mattock from its pit I ook,

"Dug deep for the Elden Tree,

“And I tempted the youth therein to look "Some curious sight to see.

"The woodmen to their meal were gone, "And ere they return'd again,

"I had planted that tree with my strength alone, "O'er the body of the slain.

"Ah! gladly smiled my

Father then,

"And seldom he smiled on me,

"When he heard that my skill, like the skill of men, "Had planted the Elden Tree.

"But where was his eldest son so dear,

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"Who nearest his heart had been?

They sought him far, they sought him near,

"But the boy no more was seen.

"And thus his life and lands he lost,
"And his Father's love beside:
"The thought that ever rankled most
"In this heart of secret pride.

"Ah! could the partial parent wot
"The cruel pang he gives,
"To the child neglected and forgot,
"Who under his cold eye lives!

"His elder rights did my envy move,

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*

"These lands and their princely hall; 'But it was our Father's partial love, "I envy'd him most of all."

TO A CHILD.

WHOSE imp art thou, with dimpled cheek,
And curly pate and merry eye,

And arm and shoulders round and sleek,
And soft and fair? thou urchin sly!

What boots it who, with sweet caresses,
First call'd thee his, or squire or hind?-
For thou in every wight that passes,

Dost now a friendly play-mate find.

Thy downcast glances, grave but cunning,
As fringed eye-lids rise and fall,

Thy shyness, swiftly from me running,-
'Tis infantine coquetry all!

But far afield thou hast not flown,

With mocks and threats half-lisp'd, half-spoken;

I feel thee pulling at my gown,

Of right good-will thy simple token.

And thou must laugh and wrestle too,
A mimic warfare with me waging,
To make, as wily lovers do,

Thy after kindness more engaging.

The wilding rose, sweet as thyself,

And new-cropt daises are thy treasure:

I'd gladly part with worldly pelf,

To taste again thy youthful pleasure.

But yet for all thy merry look,

Thy frisks and wiles, the time is coming,