The Greenwood Shrift

George III and a Dying Woman in Windsor Forest UTSTRETCHED shade beneath the leafy Of Windsor forest's deepest glade, Adying woman lay; Three little children round her stood, And there went up from the greenwood Awoful wail that day. "O mother! " was the mingled cry, " “O mother, mother ! do not die, And leave us all alone." "My blessed babes!" she tried to say, But the faint accents died away In a low sobbing moan. Andthen, life struggling hard with death, And fast and strong she drew her breath, And up she raised her head; And, peering through the deep wood maze With a long, sharp, unearthly gaze, "Will she not come?" she said. Just then, the parting boughs between, Alittle maid's light form was seen, All breathless with her speed; And, following close, aman came on (A portly man to look upon) , Who led a panting steed. THE GREENWOOD SHRIFT "Mother ! " the little maiden cried, Or e'er she reached the woman's side, And kissed her clay-cold cheek- "I have not idled in the town, But long went wandering up and down, The minister to seek. "They told me here, they told me there- I think they mocked me everywhere ; And when I found his home, And begged him on my bended knee To bring his book and come with me, Mother! he would not come. " I told him how you dying lay, And could not go in peace away Without the minister ; I begged him, for dear Christ his sake, But O, my heart was fit to breakMother! he would not stir. "So, though my tears were blinding me, I ran back, fast as fast could be, To come again to you ; And here close by this squire I met, Who asked (so mild) what made me fret ; And when I told him true- "" I will go with you, child, ' he said, 'God sends me to this dying bed'- Mother, he's here, hard by." While thus the little maiden spoke, The man, his back against an oak, Looked on with glistening eye. THE GREENWOOD SHRIFT The bridle on his neck hung free, With quivering flank and trembling knee, Pressed close his bonny bay; Astatelier man, a statelier steed, Never on greensward paced, I rede, Than those stood there that day. So, while the little maiden spoke, The man, his back against an oak, Looked on with glistening eye And folded arms, and in his look Something that, like a sermon-book, Preached-"All is vanity." But when the dying woman's face Turned toward him with a wistful gaze, He stepped to where she lay; And, kneeling down, bent over her, Saying, "I am a minister, My sister ! let us pray." And well, withouten book or stole, (God's words were printed onhis soul!) Into the dying ear He breathed, as 'twere an angel's strain, The things that unto life pertain, And death's dark shadows clear. He spoke of sinner's lost estate, In Christ renewed, regenerate- Of God's most blest decree, That not a single soul should die Who turns repentant, with the cry "Be merciful to me." THE GREENWOOD SHRIFT He spoke of trouble, pain, and toil, Endured but for a little while In patience, faith, and loveSure, in God's own good time, to be Exchanged for an eternity Of happiness above. Then, as the spirit ebbed away, He raised his hands and eyes to pray That peaceful it might pass ; And then the orphans' sobs alone Were heard, and they knelt, every one, Close round on the green grass. Such was the sight their wandering eyes Beheld, in heart-struck, mute surprise, Who reined their coursers back, Just as they found the long astray, Who, in the heat of chase that day, Had wandered from their track. But each man reined his pawing steed, And lighted down, as if agreed, In silence at his side; And there, uncovered all, they stoodIt was a wholesome sight and good That day for mortal pride. For of the noblest of the land Was that deep-hushed, bareheaded band; And, central in the ring, By that dead pauper on the ground, Her ragged orphans clinging round, Knelt their anointed king.