Shirley.
Whoe’er amidst the sons
Of reason, valour, liberty, and virtue,
Displays distinguished merit, is a noble
Of nature’s own creating. Such have risen,
Sprung from the dust; or where had been our honours?
life of an oak tree.
Long centuries have come and passed
Since, in a stormy wind,
An acorn fell one autumn day,
Like thousands of his kind.
The wild swine fed in the forests then,
And hungry beasts were they;
They crunched the mast where’er it fell,
And they feasted well that day.
But as they trampled all about
With heavy hoofs, they trod
That acorn—perchance hundreds more—
Deep in the yielding sod.
Years came and went.—The acorn grew
And became a young Oak tree;
With a slender, straight, and flexile stem,
Dressed in rich greenery.
Time passeth on.—The young tree rose
A bold and noble thing;
Each summer showed a leafier crest,
And a longer shoot each spring.
There came into the ancient wood
Some stern official men;
They marked the fairest, loftiest trees,
And they were doomèd then.