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THE TRYSTING TREE.
I.
Now up, my hearties, with your axes,”
Quoth farmer Ross, “and down with the tree ! ”
And with a blow he sent a shiver
All through and through the kingly tree.
And then there followed blow on blow,
With even and successive stroke
From axes keen, by sturdy sons
Of farmer Ross of Glenmore Brook.
And how the shivering branches cringed !
Alas, ’twas like a human thing —
Quivering, the leaves all trembling shook
As the nerves of a stabbed and dying king.
Through all the storms, one hundred years,
All steadfast, with a sovereign grace,
Hath stood this monarch of the trees,
As Csesar ’mong the Roman race ;
