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 Woodman, Spare That Tree
by George P. Morris
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 familiar tree,
Whose glory and renown
Are spread o'er land and sea--
And wouldst thou hack it down?
Woodman, forbear thy stroke!
Cut not its earth-bound ties;
Oh, spare that aged oak
Now towering to the skies.
When but an idle boy,
I sought its grateful shade;
In all their gushing joy,
Here, too, my sisters played.
My mother kissed me here;
My father pressed my hand--
Forgive this foolish tear,
But let that old oak stand!
My heart-strings 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 harm it not.
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NOTE:
Many trees in our country are landmarks, and are valued highly. The early settlers were accustomed to plant trees and dedicate them to liberty. One of these was planted at Cambridge, Mass., and it was under the shade of this venerable Elm that George Washington took command of the Continental army, July 3rd, 1775.
There are other trees around whose trunks and under whose boughs whole families of children passed much of their childhood. When one of these falls or is destroyed, it is like the death of some honored citizen.
Judge Harris of Georgia, a scholar, and a gentleman of extensive literary culture, regarded "Woodman, Spare that Tree" as one of the truest lyrics of the early twentieth century. He never heard it sung or recited without being deeply moved. |
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