But lo! a mighty Chieftain 'neath my shade,
Drew his bright sword, and reared his dauntless head,
And Liberty sprang forth from rock and glade,
And donned her helmet for the hour of dread:
While in the hero's heart there dwelt a prayer,
That Heaven's protecting arm might never cease,
To make his young, endangered land its care,
Till through the war-cloud looked the angel Peace.
Be wise, my children," said that ancient Tree,
In earnest tone, as though a Mentor spake,
"And prize the blood-bought birthright of the free,
And firmly guard it, for your country's sake."
Thanks, thanks, Old Elm! and for this counsel sage,
May heaven thy brow with added beauty grace,
Grant richer emeralds to thy crown of age,
And changeless honors from a future race.