Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry. 1904.
Poems of Home: I. About ChildrenWoodman, spare that tree
George Pope Morris (18021864)W
Touch not a single bough!
In youth it sheltered me,
And I ’ll protect it now.
’T was my forefather’s hand
That placed it near his cot;
There, woodman, let it stand,
Thy axe shall harm it not!
Whose glory and renown
Are spread o’er land and sea,
And wouldst thou hew it down?
Woodman, forbear thy stroke!
Cut not its earth-bound ties;
O, spare that aged oak,
Now towering to the skies!
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!
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 axe shall hurt it not.