Page:Pebbles and Shells (Hawkes collection).djvu/189

And raised on high its majestic form
In the Summer breeze and the Winter's storm;
I measure it with a woodman's eye,
Its towering form 'gainst the Winter sky,
And choose the spot where the tree must fall
With a deafening crash, at the woodman's call.

With a steady stroke at the tallest oak
The forest ever grows,
I'll lay it low in the gleaming snow
To music of my blows;
Then gaily sing while the woodlands ring
With echoes of the ax,
Though the trees are tall I'll conquer them all
And break their sturdy backs.

The bright ax gleams as it goes up slow
And then it falls with a ringing blow,
The sharp blade sinks in the tender sap
And falling chips leave a bleeding gap,
And wide and deep grows the woodman's cut
As he hews away at the royal butt,
And one by one through the yearly rings
The bright ax sinks while the woodman sings.

With a steady stroke at the tallest oak
The forest ever grows,
I'll lay it low in the gleaming snow
To music of my blows;

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