The poetical works of John Nicholson ... Carefully edited from the original editions, with additional notes and a sketch of his life and writings. By W. G. Hird |
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LINES ON AN OLD OAK TREE,
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 | The poetical works of John Nicholson |  |
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LINES ON AN OLD OAK TREE,
LATELY STANDING IN SPINK WELL WOOD, NEAR BRADFORD.
Behold the place, ye youths and virgins, seeWhere stood your ancient oak, your fav'rite tree!
How changed is now the place from whence it sprung,
And, like yourselves, grew vig'rous, stout, and strong!
Unmoved it stood each storm and wint'ry blast,
While o'er its head revolving cent'ries passed,—
Perhaps two hundred years it still improved,
Two hundred more by wasting time unmoved;
But recently, as greatest mortals die,
It met its fate—see where its fragments lie!
What veneration once the tree received,—
Respected by the rich and poor it lived:
Beneath its shade the pious breathed their pray'rs;
Beneath its shade the wretched shed their tears;
Beneath its shade have parting lovers stood,
While from the fair one's eyes escaped the flood.
Beneath the shelter of the fav'rite oak,
What vows were made, by faithless lovers broke!
But now, alas! ye antiquarians, mourn,
Your tree is gone, and never can return.
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Withered by time, and crumbling into mould.
Its infancy, its youth, and manhood past,
Though British oak, 'tis forced to yield at last.
But, had it lived in Studley's peaceful shades,
Nor delvers' mattocks, hammers, nor their spades
Had e'er been raised by the unfeeling clown,
To strike this only ancient vestige down.
Had it been mine, it should not yet have dropped,
But, where 'twas weak, I had its weakness propped,
Told o'er its story to the feeling breast,
And kept the tree while Bradford keeps its crest.
But why lament? since Nature says that all
That springs from earth, to earth again must fall.
So must the stately tow'rs of polished stone
Crumble to earth, and wear a mossy crown,
While nettles form their canopies of state,
And rankest weeds but mock their change of fate.
The sculptured marble monuments decay,
And crowns, and thrones, and statues fade away.
The mighty monarch, and the warrior brave,
The greatest sultan and the meanest slave,
The wretched miser and most beauteous fair,
The rich possessor and succeeding heir,
Princes and courtiers, chiefs of ev'ry state,
Both high and low, must all submit to fate.
So, rest in peace, famed oak, though doomed to fall,
For such a mighty change awaits us all!
| The poetical works of John Nicholson | |