Excerpt from The Father of the Forest: And Other Poems The Father of the Forest I Old emperor Yew, fantastic sire, Girt with thy guard of dotard kings, What ages hast thou seen retireInto the dusk of alien things?What mighty news hath stormed thy shade, Of armies perished, realms unmade? Already wast thou great and wise, And solemn with exceeding eld, On that proud morn when England's eyes, Wet with tempestuous joy, beheldRound her rough coasts the thundering mainStrewn with the ruined dream of Spain. About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art techlogy to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.