The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1885-06-20
THE DRulD,s SACRIFICE.

A thousand years, perhaps, ago. when Brit
aims mountains rose
There never yet had trOd the feet of fierce
invading foes,
When Cymric chieftains led their bands in
freedom through the wales,
And Cymric bards their triumphs sang among
the hills of Wales;
When village harpers tuned their Tyres with
JOY that seldom ceased,
Where all were happy and content, while
fiocks and herds increased.
There came amessengerin haste, who served
the Druid priests,
TO bid the people all attend the greatest of
their feastS.
Then gathered they from near and far to Mo-
ma sacred isle,
Where lived the Oracles beyond dark Me-
naiS deep detile,
And where the mystic circles built of sacred
Cromech stones
Had witnessed many sacrifice, heard many
victim groans.
So when the day at last appeared, in thou
sands gathered round,
Behold the multitude arrayed upon the hal
lowed ground;
Three pillared rings of mighty stones around
the affairs swept,
While leaf-crowned priests with watchful
care the fires upon them kept;
Far out beyond the mountains rose, with
handicapped SUBMITS free,
And like a chanting choir was heard the an
them of the sea.
Then came the oak-crowned Druid priests,
with slow and solemn tread,
A white-veied maiden with her guards be-
fore them slowly led,
While harpS and reeds, with silver tongues,
in sweetly solemn trills,
Brought echoes of the death-song back in
answers from the hills
With garments white as drifted snow and
slow majestic stride,
The patriarch of the Druid chiefs was pray
ing at her side.
Then, as each watcher, stilled and hushed,
bent with uncovered head,
The patriarch, with reverent voice, the sa-
cred mandate read,
Which told that she, their maiden choice, was
beautiful of face,
From every blemish free and clear, and filled
with every grace;
All this reported by those priests, the ffre-se-
lected three,
Who watched their victim since the maid was
rescued from the sea.
Then came the moment when her form was
lifted from the ground;
Her feet and forehead swift and safe upon
the altar bound;
Close-veiled and gagged in dumb despair up
on her bier she lay,
AS priests intOned their solemn chants and
people kneeled to pray.
Then as a priest with rapid hand her gar
mentS tore apart,
The patriarch turned and plunged the sword
of Merlin through her heart.
There, as they watched with bated breath the
fated maiden die,
The patriarch priest first turned and looked
into her glazing eye;
Then, as his form shook like reed, his fea-
lures pale as snow,
He fell upon the bleeding form, and with q
Shrek of woe,
Cried out: 80, God, whom have served, say
this can not be truth,
That this is not the daughter who was stolen
in her youth!
Then, raining kisses on the face, so pallid
now and fair,
The while her blood encrimsoned deep his
robe and flowing hair.
He called her "'Winifred" once more, and
kneeling softly there,
Bent down his head upon her breast as if in
silent prayer;
The Druids spoke unto their chief, in accents
sad and Wild
But he, their patriarch, was dead as she his
only child.
They buried them with solemn rites, beside
the moaning deep,
There where the waves which brought her
home their restless vigis keep,
And many solemn chant was sung by white
robed Druid priests,
And many sacred Offering made at festivals
and feaStS.
Long since have passed away those feasts
the DruidS and their rites,
The Cymric dynasties and power, the wor-
shippers and knights;
But still against that rOck-bOund coast the
restless ocean means,
While still mistaken stand the gray and an
cent Cromlech stones.
And still the Cymrii by their fires on winter
ewes beguile
Their children with this legend old of Mona's
- sacred isle.
J. Edgar Jones, IN Boston Post.