The Burdens of Belief and Other Poems By The Duke of Argyll [i.e. G. D. Campbell] |
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DANBURY CHASE, ESSEX
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 | The Burdens of Belief and Other Poems |  |
DANBURY CHASE, ESSEX
ON THE MORNING AFTER THE DEATH OF THOMAS LEGH CLAUGHTON, FIRST BISHOP OF ST. ALBANS August, 1892
How still this morning air with mellow lights
On the rich foliage of those ancient trees!
They've seen, perhaps, a thousand summers pass,
And many souls more fleeting still than these.
On the rich foliage of those ancient trees!
They've seen, perhaps, a thousand summers pass,
And many souls more fleeting still than these.
The ‘Raven Oak’ that, through the Middle Age,
On her great branches bore the bird of gloom,
Saw proud Crusaders in their noble rage
To save from Moslem hands the Saviour's tomb.
On her great branches bore the bird of gloom,
Saw proud Crusaders in their noble rage
To save from Moslem hands the Saviour's tomb.
And when their armour, pierced in Holy Land,
Sent its loud clangour to the mourning West,
Her boughs e'en then stretched listening to the sound
Of chanted benison on knights at rest:
Sent its loud clangour to the mourning West,
Her boughs e'en then stretched listening to the sound
Of chanted benison on knights at rest:
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And that tall spire that lifts the village church
High in the air from out its crowning wood
Still points the altar where those prayers were said
And standeth now where even then it stood.
High in the air from out its crowning wood
Still points the altar where those prayers were said
And standeth now where even then it stood.
Each later age those stately trees have seen
Men sport and mourn through all their sun and shade:
Heard in the day the hunter's bugle horn,
And pass at eve the joyous cavalcade.
Men sport and mourn through all their sun and shade:
Heard in the day the hunter's bugle horn,
And pass at eve the joyous cavalcade.
And little children playing round their feet
Have lived, and grown, and toiled to agèd head
Resting at noon beneath their shadowing arms,
Until they saw them numbered with the dead.
Have lived, and grown, and toiled to agèd head
Resting at noon beneath their shadowing arms,
Until they saw them numbered with the dead.
And now stag-headed, with some branches bare,
They still are young as with their younger leaves,
Still living through the little lives of men
Their seed, their sowing, and their garnered sheaves.
They still are young as with their younger leaves,
Still living through the little lives of men
Their seed, their sowing, and their garnered sheaves.
But never since those fruitful acorns fell
In older glades before the Norman's day,
Have they e'er stood around a nobler lord
Than him who now, again, has passed away.
In older glades before the Norman's day,
Have they e'er stood around a nobler lord
Than him who now, again, has passed away.
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Farewell, old chase! for our sad parting ways
Must leave your dearest shades by us untrod.
Your boughs have sheltered for some blessèd years
A Prince, and Father, in the Church of God.
Must leave your dearest shades by us untrod.
Your boughs have sheltered for some blessèd years
A Prince, and Father, in the Church of God.
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