Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1885-10-28
ALPENA WEEKLY ARGUS.
THE pRuIp.s SACRIFICE.

A thousand years, perhaps, ago, when Brit
aims mountains rose
There never yet had trod tho feet OF fierce
When Cymric chieftans 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
hocks and herds increased.
There came messenger In haste, who served
the Druid priests,
To bid the people all attend the greatest OF
their feasts.
Thcn gathered they from near and far to Mo-
mas sacred isle,
where lived the Oracles beyond dark Me-
nai's deep defile,
And where the mystic circles built OF sacred
Cromlech stones
Had witnessed many II sacrifice, heard many
victims Rroans.
So when the day ut last appeared, In thou
sands gathered round,
Behold the multitude arrayed upon the hal
lowed ground;
Three pillarcd rings OF mighty stones around
While ioaf-crowned priests with watchful
care the fires upon them kept;
Far out beyond the mountains rose, with
Handicapped submits free.
And like chanting choir was heard the an
them of tho sea.
Then came the oak-crowned Druid priests,
with slow and solemn tread
A white-veiled maiden with her guards be-
fore them slowly led
While harps and reeds, with silver tongues,
In sweetly solemn trills,
Brought echoes of the dcath-song back In
answers from the hills.
with garments white as driftcd snow and
slow majestic stride,
The patriarch of the Druid chiefs was pray
ing at her side.
Then, as each watcher, stilled and hushcd,
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 blcmish free and clear, and filled
with every grace;
All this reported by those priests, the firc-se-
lectcd three,
Who watched their victim since tho 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-voiled and gagged I'm dumb despair up
on her bier she lay,
As priests intoned their solemn chants and
people kneeled to pray.
Then ms priest with rapid hand her gar
mcnts tore apart,
The patriarch turned and plunged the sword
of Merlin through her heart.
There. rs they watched with batcd breath the
fatcd maiden die,
Tho patriarch priest first turned and looked
into her glazing eye;
Then, as his form shook like a reed, his fen-
lures pale as snow,
He fell upon the bleeding form, and with
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,
Tho while her blood encrimsoned deep his
robe and flowing hair,
He called her "Winfred" once more, and
kneellng softly there,
Bent down his head upon her breast rs IL 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 thom with solemn rites, beside
the moaning deep,
There where the waves which brought her
home their restless vigils 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 Drulds 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
Client Cromlech stones.
And still the Cymri by their fires on winter
ewes beguile
Their children, with this legend old of Mona's
'----~- sacred isle.
u Edgar Jones, IN Boston Post.