Asp em 
301 
The tall warrior pine, and the cedar so regal, 
The home of the stork and the haunt of the eagle 
All the patriarchal kings of the forest adored 
And bowed their proud heads at the sight of the Lord! 
“One tree, and one only, continued erect, 
Too vain to show even the Saviour respect! 
The light giddy aspen its leafy front raised, 
And on the Redeemer unbendingly gazed. 
Then a cloud, more of sorrow than wrath, dimm’d the brow 
Of Him to whom everything living should bow; 
While to the offender, with shame now opprest, 
He breathed in these words the eternal behest: 
“ * Alas for thy fate ! thou must suffer, poor tree, 
For standing when others were bending the knee. 
Thou ’rt doomed for thy fault an atonement to pay: 
Henceforth be a rush for the wild winds to sway. 
Sigh, sport of their fury, and slave of their will! 
Bow, e’en in a calm, when all others are still! 
And shivering, quivering, droop evermore, 
Because thou wouldst not with thy brothers adore.’ 
“The weak aspen trembled, turned pale with dismay, 
And is pallid with terror and grief to this day. 
Each tremulous leaf of the penitent tree 
Obeys to this moment the heav’nly decree. 
’T is the sport of the wild winds, the slave of their will, 
E’en without a breeze bends, when all others stand still; 
And full of emotion, its fault doth deplore, 
Sigh, shiver, and quiver, and droop evermore.” 
Moore, with his usual felicity of combining humanity and 
nature’s peculiarities, prettily sings : 
‘ ‘ That the wind, full of wantonness, woos like a lover 
The young aspen-trees, till they tremble all over.” 
