 | Young Arthur |  |
The lands and mansion to the lender fall,
And Allan's driven from his father's hall.
To find a shelter from their home they go,
Their tongues were silent, and their steps were slow;
And though by many a gorgeous gate they pass'd
No porter hail'd them, and each gate was fast;
Yet at each cottage the swift-lifted latch
Seem'd to invite them 'neath the grateful thatch;
While the glad terrier, prancing 'round their feet,
Kind welcome bark'd, in ecstacy to meet
The good old man, and generous boy, who there
So oft had call'd to sooth the 'plaint of care;
Yet on they went, in virtuous hope secure,
With man's best praise, the blessing of the poor.
Two days they went; for food and sleep alone
Resting; their slumbers short, their meal soon done;
Two days they went, then reach'd a fertile spot,
Where, by a shade embower'd, arose a cot
Of decent structure; there an ancient dame
Illum'd life's evening with a pious flame:
Old Simon's sister, fix'd within the place
By him, and, with him, last of all their race!
Last of their race; and soon themselves shall fall—
So when some grove, fair, flourishing, and tall,
Yields its fell'd honours to the woodman's hand,
Two aged elms, alone remaining, stand;
The woodman stops—sun-setting stays the blow;
Sun-rise returns him, and the elms lie low:
Clear'd is the ground, the thoughtful woodman sighs,
No Scion left, no future grove shall rise!
And Allan's driven from his father's hall.
To find a shelter from their home they go,
Their tongues were silent, and their steps were slow;
And though by many a gorgeous gate they pass'd
No porter hail'd them, and each gate was fast;
Yet at each cottage the swift-lifted latch
Seem'd to invite them 'neath the grateful thatch;
While the glad terrier, prancing 'round their feet,
Kind welcome bark'd, in ecstacy to meet
The good old man, and generous boy, who there
So oft had call'd to sooth the 'plaint of care;
Yet on they went, in virtuous hope secure,
With man's best praise, the blessing of the poor.
Two days they went; for food and sleep alone
Resting; their slumbers short, their meal soon done;
34
Where, by a shade embower'd, arose a cot
Of decent structure; there an ancient dame
Illum'd life's evening with a pious flame:
Old Simon's sister, fix'd within the place
By him, and, with him, last of all their race!
Last of their race; and soon themselves shall fall—
So when some grove, fair, flourishing, and tall,
Yields its fell'd honours to the woodman's hand,
Two aged elms, alone remaining, stand;
The woodman stops—sun-setting stays the blow;
Sun-rise returns him, and the elms lie low:
Clear'd is the ground, the thoughtful woodman sighs,
No Scion left, no future grove shall rise!
| Young Arthur | |