Herne’s Oak

Through Windsor’s Park there goes a tale
About an old oak tree.
Which, like most others of its kind,
Is wrapt in mystery.

When storms do rage and fierce winds howl
At dismal dark midnight,
Through Winter’s time there may be seen
A curious spectral sight,

Of Herne, who once the chase had led
Through many a brake and dell
No hunter then in all the land,
His prowess could excel.

And so he led the Royal pack,
Till an unlucky thing —
He great displeasure did create
With Harry, who was King.

Being dismissed from service good,
Which followed speedily,
The tale is told he hung himself
Upon this huge oak tree.

And so at Winter’s dark midnight
His figure might be seen,
Together with his spectral hounds,
Come rushing o’er the green.

The tree they say would open wide
Amid the raging storms,
To enclose within its hollow trunk
These fiery demon forms.

The famous bard of Avon, too,
Immortalized this tree
With The Merry Wives of Windsor
And their glorious jollity.

Sir John Falstaff and fairy elves
Did sport around the same,
When Herne appeared with monstrous horns
Amid the smoke and flame.

Some years have passed since Shakespeare wrote,
And changes there have been
The tree is gone, and others too –
Quite altered is the scene

For age has felled its ancient stem,
Assisted by the blast,
And leaves it but a shattered wreck –
A relic of the past.

But remnants of this dear old trunk
In Windsor shall be seen,
Preserved by Windsor’s merry maids,
To say what it has been.

Our noble Queen, too, has been pleased
To humbly ascertain—
Now it’s so suddenly removed
From off her Royal domain—

To best preserve the remnants
Of this old curious tree,
Till dust shall finish all that’s left
With our posterity.

So it’s to grace the Castle fair,
And doubtless there will be
Admired by every Royal one
For many a century

And till the last they’ll tell the tale
About Herne’s Haunted Tree,
Sir John FALSTAFF, the MERRY WIVES,
And SHAKESPEARE’S memory.

T. NASON
Windsor, Oct 1863