Speak, if there be a priest, a man of God, Among you there, and let him presently Approach, and lean a ladder on the shaft, And climbing up into my airy home, Deliver me the blessed sacrament; For by the warning of the Holy Ghost, I prophesy that I shall die to-night, A quarter before twelve. But thou, O Lord, Aid all this foolish people; let them take Example, pattern: lead them to thy light. THE TALKING OAK. I. ONCE more the gate behind me falls Once more before my face I see the moulder'd Abbey-walls, That stand within the chace. ; II. Beyond the lodge the city lies, Beneath its drift of smoke ; III. For when my passion first began, The love, that makes me thrice a man, IV. To yonder oak within the field. V. For oft I talk'd with him apart, And answer'd with a voice. VI. Tho' what he whisper'd, under Heaven None else could understand; I found him garrulously given, A babbler in the land. VII. But since I heard him make reply 'Twere well to question him, and try If yet he keeps the power. VIII. Hail, hidden to the knees in fern, Broad Oak of Sumner-chace, Whose topmost branches can discern The roofs of Sumner-place! IX. Say thou, whereon I carved her name, If ever maid or spouse, As fair as my Olivia, came To rest beneath thy boughs.— X. "O Walter, I have shelter'd here The good old Summers, year by year, XI. "Old Summers, when the monk was fat, And, issuing shorn and sleek, 66 Would twist his girdle tight, and pat XII. Ere yet, in scorn of Peter's-pence, 66 XIII. And I have seen some score of those Fresh faces, that would thrive When his man-minded offset rose To chase the deer at five; R 242 THE TALKING OAK. XIV. "And all that from the town would stroll, Till that wild wind made work In which the gloomy brewer's soul XV. "The slight she-slips of loyal blood, XVI. "And I have shadow'd many a group In teacup-times of hood and hoop, XVII. And, leg and arm with love-knots gay, About me leap'd and laugh'd The modish Cupid of the day, And shrill'd his tinsel shaft. ง XVIII. "I swear (and else may insects prick Each leaf into a gall) This girl, for whom your heart is sick, Is three times worth them all ; |