King Oswy of Northumbria [pp. 1-12]

THE
CATHOLIC WORLD.
VOL. XXVIII., No. i63.-OCTOBER, 1878.
KING OSWY OF NORTHUMBRIA.
A CHRONICLE POEM, TAKEN CHIEFLY FROMI THE VENERABLE BEDE.
BY AUBREY DE VERE.
L'ENVOY.
'MID quiet meads, or cities midnight-stilled,
Well pleased the indweller hears from distant Alps,
Wakeful by night, on fitful breeze the voice
Of torrents murmuring down their rocky beds: The rude old Chronicles of ancient days,
Reader, might thus content thee. This is one.
Young, beauteous, brave-the bravest of the brave Who loved not Oswin? All that saw him loved:
Aidan loved most, monk of Iona's Isle,
Northumbria's bishop next, from Lindisfarne
Ruling in things divine. One morn it chanced
That Oswin, noting how with staff in hand
Old Aidan roamed his spiritual realm, footbare,
t Wading deep stream, and piercing thorny brake,
Sent him a horse-his best. The saint was pleased
But, onward while he rode, and, musing, smiled,
To think of these his honors in old age,
A beggar claimed his alms. "Gold have I none,"
Aidan replied; "this horse be thine!" The king,
Hearing the tale, was grieved. "Keep I, my lord,
No meaner horses fit for beggar's use
That thus my best should seem a thing of naught?"
To whom old Aidan: "Beggar's use, my king!"
Copyright: Rev. I. T. HECKER. 1878.