Since this poem is not an original composition of mine own devising, it cannot be entered into the Bardic Arts Contest in the Yew Vernal Equinox Celebration. Yet it is a work of great beauty and well worth the sharing. I know that the Salty Dog Tavern is unaccustomed to such recitations, but I beg thy indulgence on this occasion. The Ormiston Yew Tree by James Miller HAIL! monarch of the garden's bed, That gleams like Druids' grove afar; May lightnings never blast thy head, Nor blighting dews thy glories mar; And, should Destruction's arm abhorr'd, E'er smite thee in thy noon of fame, Thy trunk shall deck the festive board Like The Bard's tree, and save thy name. Beneath thy dark umbrageous shade The village swain delights to rove, To tell his kind-consenting maid The soft voluptuous tale of love; While blushes tinge her rosy cheeks, As crimson rays o'er snow-wreaths steal, The silent sigh too well bespeaks What maiden lips may not reveal. How oft thy branches, spreading wide, Have canopied the children's ring, From merry morn till eventide, Disporting like the birds in spring; While chasing from their dewy nest The covey o'er the lilied lea; Or, climbing high, with fearless breast, To rob the rook on yonder tree. Years speed away-the rustic core Again beneath thy foliage meet, But not so blest as when of yore They tripp'd on music-loving feet. Now manhood's sterner cares engage As Mammon's paths they keen explore; Or, haply, read the patriarch's page Or turn unmeaning thesis o'er. When sultry Sol is flaming high, At summer's noon the swains repair 'Neath thy impervious canopy The frugal fare of health to share. The cup goes round at pleasure's call, The kiss is stolen from buxom maid While, catching fragments as they fall, The fawning dog is couchant laid. But when the clouds in darkness roam, Thick scatter'd by the murmuring wind, The moralist loves thy solemn gloom, That suits his meditative mind: Dull tree! thou lov'st the burial-ground, With evergreens thou mock'st decay; For where the woodmen moulder round, Thou gather'st moisture from their clay... I thank thee for thy indulgence. If these fair words have stirred thy heart, thou art encouraged to attend the Yew Vernal Equinox Celebration and share a poem of thine own compsition. I pray that I may see thee there.
*applauds respectfully* That was truly lovely, Jaana! My original invitation to the Vernal Equinox Celebration pales in comparison to this! When I urged you to take a more active role in representing Yew, I had no idea what might emerge. I am truly impressed! Since you will be judging the event, you may share whatever poem you wish whether it is an original composition or not. However, The Salty Dog is not accustomed to such cultured entertainment. You are going to ruin its seedy reputation!
Aye, I im in agreeance with good Antos - this establishment has not had ears for such poetry! A wonderful addition, thank you lady Jaana.
