THE ELM-TREES.
I do remember me
Of two old elm-trees' shade,
With mosses sprinkled at their feet,
Where my young childhood play'd;
While the rocks above their head
Frown'd out so stern and gray,
And the little crystal streamlet near
Went leaping on its way.
There, side by side, they flourish'd,
With intertwining crown,
And through their broad embracing arms
The prying moon look'd down;
And I deem'd, as there I linger'd—
A musing child, alone—
She sought my secret heart to scan
From her far silver throne.
I do remember me
Of all their wealth of leaves,
When summer, in her radiant loom,
The burning solstice weaves;
And how, with firm endurance,
They braved an adverse sky,
Like Belisarius, doom'd to meet
His country's wintry eye.
