Poems (Bass)/Spare the Trees
SPARE THE TREES.
The noble trees that boldly guard the brave In pride serene; their lofty domes are sweet To pavement-weary eyes, and town-worn feetMove with a freer step as o'er the graveOf Ladd, of Whitney, their cool banners wave. How passing fair upon the thriving street The soothing beauty of this calm retreat;Awake. O city! and thine ancients save. What grace the tone refined of sylvan shadeSheds on the busy square; the Hall, embossed With figures quaint by Sol himself inlaid.Throw down the pruning axe and count the cost Ay, spare the trees; let none the theme evade,For what is "time," when such as these are lost.