“From the hursts of holy oak Fateful gods of Asgard spoke; In the consecrated shade Bard and Druid sang and prayed. “Fostered in an oaken womb Slept Trifingus, sword of doom; Therewith woaded Caratak Drave the steel-sarked Roman back. “Where, profaned by legioned foes, In the shuddering forest rose Mona’s altars flaming rud, Britain drowned her woe in blood. “Then the dread decree of Norn Sounded in the groves forlorn; Vikings swooping from the North Harried every scaur and forth. “Forests fell with crash and roar, Masted galiots spurned the shore, Dragon-breasted,--swum the meer, Daring danger, scouting fear. “Hengist’s brood and Horsa’s kin, Seed of Garmund, sons of Finn, Dane and Saxon sail and sweep Battling o’er the wrathful deep; “Hearts of oak! their valor gave Right of might to rule the wave, Gave to Nelson’s ocean war Copenhagen, Trafalgar! “Bray of trumpet! roll of drum! When shall Balder’s kingdom come? Bitter sap shall when grow sweet In the acorn at my feet? “Centuries do I stand here Thinking thoughts profound and drear, Dreaming solemn dreams sublime Of the mysteries of Time. “Roots of mine do feed on graves; I have eaten bones of braves; In the ground the learnéd gnomes Read to me their cryptic tomes. “Annals treasured in the air All the past to me declare; Every wind of heaven brings Tribute for me on its wings. “Through my silence proud and lone Whispers waft from the Unknown: Musing eld hath second ken-- Moon! the dead shall live again. “Sun-scorch have I borne, and pangs From the gnaw of winter’s fangs; Fought tornadoes, nor forsook Roothold when the mountains shook. “Oft the zig-zag thunder hath Struck me with his fiery scath,-- To my core the havoc sped, Yet I never bowed my head. “I am weary of the years; Overthrown are all my peers, Slain by steel or storm or flame,-- I would perish too--the same. “Yet shall I a little space Linger still in life’s embrace Ere metempsychosing time Drag me down to Niflheim. “Wherefore shun or summon fate? Wisest they who sanely wait; In my fiber nature saith, Life is good and good is death. “Mated birds of procreant Spring In my branches build and sing; Grass is green and flowers bloom Where I spread my golden gloom; “Happy children round me play; Plighted lovers near me stray; Insects chirping in the night Thrill me with obscure delight; “Circling seasons as they run, Couriers of the lavish sun, Dower me with treasure lent By each potent element; “Ministers to me the whole Zonéd globe from pole to pole; In my buds and blossoms beat Pulses from the central heat;--