Woodman, Spare That Tree

Woodman, Spare That Tree
3781

Woodman, spare that tree!
Touch not a single bough
In youth it sheltered me,
And I’ll protect it now
Twas my forefather’s hand
That placed it near his cot
There, woodman, let it stand;
Thy ax shall harm it not

That old famillar tree,
Whose glory and renown
Are spread o’er land and and sea,
And would’st thou hack it do down?
Woodman, forbear thy stroke
Cut not Its earth bound ties;
O spare that aged oak,
Now towering to he skies!

When but an idle boy
I sought its grateful shade
In all their gushing joy,
Here, too, iny sisters played
My mother kissed me here:
My father pressed my hand-
Forgive this foolish tear
But let that old oak stand!

My heartstrings round thee cling,
Close as thy bark, old friend!
Here shall the wild bird sing
And still thy branches bend
Old tree, the storm still brave,
And woodman, leave the spot;
While I’ve a hand to save,
Thy ax shall harın it not