Ride to the Lady, and Other Poems — The Gifts of the Oak

(FOR THE SEVENTIETH BIRTHDAY OF JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL)

'There needs no crown to mark the forest's king.'

Thus, long ago thou sang'st the sound-heart tree Sacred to sovereign Jove, and dear to thee Since first, a venturous youth with eyes of spring,-- Whose pilgrim-staff each side put forth a wing,-- Beneath the oak thou lingeredst lovingly To crave, as largess of his majesty, Firm-rooted strength, and grace of leaves that sing.

He gave; we thank him!

Graciousness as grave, And power as easeful as his own he gave;

Long broodings rich with sun, and laughters kind;

And singing leaves, whose later bronze is dear As the first amber of the budding year,-- Whose voices answer the autumnnal wind.

THE STRAYED SINGER