TAPESTRY TREES.

I am the Roof-tree and the Keel;

I bridge the seas for woe and weal.

High o'er the lordly oak I stand,

And drive him on from land to land.

I heft my brother's iron bane;

I shaft the spear, and build the wain.

Dark down the windy dale I grow,

The father of the fateful Bow.

The war-shaft and the milking-bowl

I make, and keep the hay-wain whole.

The King I bless; the lamps I trim;

In my warm wave do fishes swim.

I bowed my head to Adam's will;

The cups of toiling men I fill.

I draw the blood from out the earth;

I store the sun for winter mirth.

Amidst the greenness of my night,

My odorous lamps hang round and bright.

I who am little among trees

In honey-making mate the bees.

Love's lack hath dyed my berries red:

For Love's attire my leaves are shed.

High o'er the mead-flowers’ hidden feet

I bear aloft my burden sweet.

Look on my leafy boughs, the Crown

Of living song and dead renown!