666 BOARD OF AGRICULTURE. 



The old, familiar poem of George P. Morris is exceedingly appropriate: 



"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, 



Thv axe shall harm it not! 



That old familiar tree, 



AVhose 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; 

 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 — 

 Ii"'orgive 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 axe shaU harm it not." 



