Resource

Poetry.

STANZAS ON THE FALL OF THE BOOME TREE

On Ash Wednesday, February 17th, 1836. It grew in Alnwick Churchyard, and is supposed to have been planted in the reign of Edward IV, nearly 400 years ago,

The winds were loud, the sea did roar
The rain in torrents fell
The angry breakers sought the shore
Their furious rage to quell.

The shepherd left his fleecy charge,
And hasten’d or the plain
His flocks deserted rov'd at large,
And shelter sought in vaine

The mountain torrents rushing down
Swept through the lonely vales
The spirit of the storm did frown
His threats were in the gale.

Nor could the storm's triumphant stroke
The headless woods resist
It made the proud disdainful oak
His stubborn branches twist

An ash, stupendous, reared its form
The churchyard path beside
For ages had withstood the storm
And bloomed with stately pride.

But Time's subduing hand, at last
Its victim overthrew
It yielded to the northern blast
Which most tremendous blew.

When Sabbath bells with joyful sound
Call'd to the house of prayer,
Both rich and poor, and all around,
The healing balm to share!

Beneath its shade they pass along
And gaz’d with wond’ring eyes;
It seem'd to hail the pious throng,
Intent on sacrifice!

When happy pairs, In youthful pride,
Whom Love had smil'd upon
To Hymen’s altar gaily hied
To join their hands in one.

His playful leaves it rustl'd high
To cheer their spirits gay,
And welcom'd them in passing by
Upon the nuptial day!

In sable weeds, when mourners pass'd,
Suffus'd with many a tear,
A hollow moaning sound it cast
Upon the solemn bier.

That stately tree, alas ! no more
Shall wave its tow'ring head;
Its time is past— its days are o'er,
'Tis number'd with the dead !

W. F. Alnwick.