The trembling ill
Of tempers of womankind,
Which never rest,
But still are prest
To wave with every wind.”
The Bretons have a legend that the Saviour’s cross was made of Aspen wood; and that the ceaseless trembling of the leaves of this tree marks the shuddering of sympathetic horror. The Germans preserve an ancient tradition that, during their flight into Egypt, the Holy Family came to a dense forest, in which, but for an angelic guide, they must have lost their way. As they entered this wilderness, all the trees bowed themselves down in reverence to the infant God; only the Aspen, in her exceeding pride and arrogance, refused to acknowledge Him, and stood upright. Then the Holy Child pronounced a curse against her, as He in after life cursed the barren Fig-tree; and at the sound of His words the Aspen began to tremble through all her leaves, and has not ceased to tremble to this day. Mr. Henderson, in his ‘Folk-lore of the Northern Counties,’ states that this tradition has been embodied in a little poem, which may be thus translated:—
“Once as our Saviour walked with men below,
His path of mercy through a forest lay;
And mark how all the drooping branches show,
What homage best a silent tree may pay!