New-York tribune. [volume] (New-York [N.Y.]) 1841-1842, 1841-09-21

Till their shape Is the shape OF their dungeon
In the dull reposo OF our changeless life,
long FOR passion, long for strife,
As in the calm the mariner signs
For rushing waves and grooming skies
Oh for the lists, the lists Of fame
Oh for the herad's glad Acclaim
For floating pernon and prancing s;eed
And Beauty's wonder at Manhood's deed
beneath an ancient oak he lay
More years than maa can count. tkey say,
On the verge of the dim and solemn wood,
Through suasIise and storm that oak had stood.
Many a loving, laughing sprte,
Tended the branches by day and by night;
And the leaves of is age we're a. fresh and green
As the leaves of its early youth had been.
Pure of thought should the mortal be
Who sleeps beneath the Haunted Tree
1hut night the minstrel laid him down
Ere his brow relaxed its sullen frown;
And Slurber had bound his eyeds fast
Ere the evil wish from his soul mad passed.
And song on the sleeper's ear descended,
A song it was pain near and pleasure,
So strangely wrath and love were blended
In every tone Of the mystic measure.
81 know thee, child of earth
The morning of thy birth
In through the lattice did my chariot glide;
saw thy father weep
Over thy first wild sleep,
l rocked thy cradle when thy mother died.
And have seen thee gaze
Upon these birks and braes,
Which are my kingdoms, with irreverent scorn;
And heard thee pour reproof
Upon the vine-clad roof,
Beneath whose peaceful shelter thou vert born.
Z" | bind thee in the snare
OF thine unholy prayer;
| seal thy forehead with viewless seal:
l give into thine hand
The buckier and the brand,
And clasp the golden spur upon thy heel.
"When thou hast made thee wise
In the sad lore of signs,
When tile worlds visions fan! thee and forsake,
Return. return to me.
And to my Haunted Tree: awake ~
The charm hath bound thee now Sir knight,
Sir Isumbras, in doub, aud dread,
From his feverish sleep awcke,
And started up from his grassy bed
Under the ancient oak.
And he called The page who held his spear,
And % Tell me, boy quoth he,
"How long have been slumbering here,
Beneath the greenwood tree =
Z" Ere thou didst sleep, ! CHANGED to throw
stone into the rill
And the ripple that disturbed its flow
Is on its surface still
Ere thou ddst sleep, thou bad'st me sing
King Arthur's tavorite lay;
And the first echo of the string
Has hardly died away"
q How strange is Sleep" the young knight said,
As he claspcd the helm upon his head,
And, mounting again his courscr black,
To his gloomy tower rode slowly back;
a. How strange is sleepi when his dark spell lies
On the drowsy lids OF human eyes,
The wears OF II life will float along
In the compass of pages song.
Me,hought lived in pleasant vale,
The haunt of the lark and the nightingale,
Where the summer rose had brighter hue,
And the noon-day sky clearer blue,
And the spirit OF man in age and youth
fondc1 love, and trmer truth.
And lived on, iair-haiIcd boy,
In that sweet vale OF tranquil JOY;
Until at last vain caprice
Grew weary O. Us bliss and peace.
And one there was, most dear and fair.
0f all that smiled around me there
y gentle maid with cloudcSs face,
And Il form so full Of fairy grace;
Who. when turned with >corniul spleen
From the feast in the bower, or the dance the
Would humor all nay weyward will, [srecn,
AID love me, and forgive NE, still.
Even now, methinks her smile of light
Is there before me, mild and bright
And hear her voice of fond rcproof
Between The beats OF my pallrey's hoof.
T is idle all: but could weep =
Alas said the knight, = how strange Is sleep
He struck with his spear the brazen plate
That hung before the castle gate;
The torch threw high It's waves of flame
As forth the watchiul uaenials came;
They lighted tue way TO the banquc, hall,
They hung the shield uPen the wall,
They spread the board, and they filled the bowl.
And the phant.ms passed from his troubled soul
Sir Isumbras was ever found
Where blows were struck for glory;
There safe no, a, the Table Round
knight more famed in story
The king on his throne would tarn about
To see his courSer praucing;
And, when Sir Launceot was oat,
The queen would praise MS dancing;
He quite wore out his father spurs,
Perfor ming valer's dsties-
DESTROYING mighty sorcerers,
Avenging injured beauties.
And crossing many tracSIess sand,
And rescuing peoples daughters
From dragons thar iniest the land,
And whales that walk the waters.
He .hro,tled lions by the score.
And giants by the dozen;
And. for his skill in le,tered lore,
They called min, Merlin's Cousin
A score of steeds, with bit and rein,
Stood ready In his stablei