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53

The Votive Tree

Sprawled on the harsh sea-sand, Lentinus found
A rough wild olive, on whose branches grew
Strange foliage—wind-dried garments not a few,
Festoons of seaweed, battered medals bound
Like fruits, and tinkling with a shaken sound,—
Things ragged, mean, deplorable to view;
But he was moved and gladdened, for he knew
The pious token and the prayer profound.
These were the gifts of sailors, who had felt
Death, in a dream, like cold wind thro' their hair,
And, wakening, found the horror ebbed away;
So that beneath that tree Lentinus knelt,
As at a chapel entered unaware,
And blessed the gods whom storms and seas obey.