ABSTRACT
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 axe 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!
