Cut not its earth-bound ties;
Oh! spare that aged oak,
Now tow'ring to the skies.

3. When but an idle boy,
I sought its friendly shade;
In all their gushing joy,
Here, too, my sisters played;
My mother kiss'd me here;
My father press'd my hand,
Forgive this foolish tear,
But let that old oak stand!

4. 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 thou'lt brave,
And, woodman, leave the spot;
While I've a hand to save,
Thy axe shall harm it not!


=8. BREAKING RANKS AND DISMISSAL.=

[Illustration]