Middletown transcript., 1869-03-13
Selett poetrp.
THE OLD TREES STORY.
From the Annapolis Gazette,


Like gentle mother the moon looked down,
Giving each charm a loveler light,
| Softening defects with the veil of night;
Sweetly She smiled, where meath pine-trees' shad
The loved of long years in their tombs are laid
| And sivered the streams that like ribbons lay
| Vending their way TO the noble bay;
| Save where they shrunk into heavy shade
By an ancient tree ora tall cliff made.
| Yet even there did beauty dwell
| Brightest, where deepest the shadow fell
Where the waves gave back to the deep blue skie
Their own dark hue, and starry eyes.
The day had been warm, but at eve there sprun
| A cooling breeze fromTthe East, that Wrppg
A reluctant "yes' to the aged sire
| As he asked if it were not time for fire.
| The straying breeze from Eolus wing
Went wandering on it had had its fling;
And again with warm light the moon locke
down
On hill and valley, on grove and town.
oppressed with the sense of returning heat
rose from my couch, ere the measured beat
Of the tail old clock in the College Hall
Had sounded the hour of ghostly thrall
And wandered forth, with half eager dread,
Intent to listen and hear the tread
That they tell us is heard at midnight hour
In each building old, or haunted tower
! waited long, and thought in vain;
No sound awoke in the nights still reign.
At length as sat, soft, sweet tone,-
sweet as child s,--like doves low moan,-
Fell on my ear, and it seemed was cast
From yon old tree by passing blast.
Eager listened, nor listened long,
Hark to the words of the spirits song
Twas night like this, in an age long past
That sprung to life on the evening blast;
Twas young and fair IL am old and grey;
was fresh for lifc,-I am passing away.
Again, as my fate is, ] tell my tale,
10 the genii around it is borne by the gale;
There were few of you here when a hundred
years past
Whispered it all TO the wintry blast
Again may tell it when on my hoar head
A century sleeps; but We shall be dead.
Then listen. know when once there stood
Where ye are standing, a noble wood;
Thence was called by one whose mien,
whose stately form, and whose black eye keen
Told that should wrath on his dark brow lower
Hundreds might dread to feel his power.
To his arms an infant girl had been given
AS the mothers spirit escaped TO heaven
And the custom was he should plant tree
To bear his name to posterity.
AT his bidding came. In my care was placed
A tiny tree, that from headless haste
OF hunter or hunted, from tempest wild,
From all harm, should shield his forest child
A year, and come sec that high it rears
Its vigorous head, among its peersl
A year lit is naught 1T had passed away,
And | heard his step in the forest grey.
lie came not alone; in his arms he brought
Like her father she was as polished block ..
May resemble rough unpublished rock.
In character his,-in her large dark eye
saw firm resolve, and spirit high.
1t is well, said he I've forest son,
My memory shall live though my race be done
Ay, live for it bears noble name
That has never been tarnshed with deeds Of
shame.
Behold thy brother he said, and smiled,
AS around me were thrown the arms of the child,
Thy brother alas there's no living one
10 bear the name of the warriors son.
Years came and went, but as each one fled
My roots struck deep, and my branches spread.
With each spring they came to mark my size,
And my sister admired me with wondering eyes.
Years fled; and my father was aged now;
A crciet of grey was upon his brow
No longer he came with firm, steady tread
AS if an armed band of a thousand he led
But these years for the Tulip, how passed they on?
Both baby prattle and childhood were gone,
An maiden fair beside me stood
In the first bright blush of womanhood.
AT length they came, not with the bright spring
flowers,
And Summer passed, and the Autumn showers
And the Winter SHOWS, and a second year
Was left alone with my aimless fear.
The chilling winds ofthe Fall had swept
My leaves from their boughs; the squirrel had
crept
To his Winter home; and all nature slept
Late In gloomy November day
heard a step in the forest grey
With timerous tread, like the hunted deer,
Cautious and trembling, as if in fear
They came; but alas for the change that had
passed
On their noble forms since saw them last
The Tulip was bowed, yet her hand essayed
The feeble step of her sire to aid,
And with cheering tones she whiled his ear
With tales of prowess, to braves so dear.
She minded him how in older days
The land had rung with his fathers praise,
And hundreds had fallen when he went forth
To battle the tribes of the stormy North.
Would he were here or that l could be
worthy successor to him and thee;
Then had the battle been fought and won
Were not a girl, but warriors son.
But now, 20 father to live and know
That thou must flee from thy puny foel
I ur tribe is scattered, our lands are gone,
Our fate-bird has tried her wings and howni
Zen as she spoke, from a thicket rose
An armed band of their deadly foes.
With a cry of horror she rose to fly;
Alas they had tracked them with watchful eye.
As she turned in her eager, painting haste,
On every side was an ambush placed.
Despairing she turned IL fear not to die
My father she said with a wailing cry,
''But they'll part us here,-oh my father save
Rather death with thee and a chieftaip's grave"
He whispered ''ere thop from my side art riven
This heart from its earthly home shall be drivenn
Twas even so. Ere the close of day,
They had torn the girl from her sire away;
But nought was left save the earthly mould
That once contained his spirit bold.
In the hush of night sorrowing few
Who had watched afar, and his sad fate knew,
Laid him at rest ftom earthly harm
Meath the cooling shade of his sons strong arm.
To each wintry wind told my grief.
And sighed for the life that had been so brief;
For small love | thought, would those cruel show
To his child who was, erst their deadliest foe.
Late in the spring came ARMED band,
Fresh from the waste of the northern land,
And with them brought-0h was il she
My own sweet sister, my Tulip tree