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! 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 play’d. My mother kiss’d me here; My father press’d my hand: Forgive this foolish tear, But let the old oak stand! My heart-strings round thee cling, Close as thy bark, old friend! Here shall the wild birds sing, And still thy branches bend. Old tree! the storms still brave! And, woodman, leave the spot! While I have hand to save, Thy ax shall harm it not. Old Rosin the Bow. 61 I have travel’d this wide world over, And now to another I’ll go. I know that good quarters are waiting To welcome old Rosin the Beau. _Chorus._--To welcome old Rosin the Bow, To welcome old Rosin the Bow, I know that good quarters are waiting To welcome old Rosin the Bow. When I’m dead and laid out on the counter, A voice you will hear from below, Singing out, “Whiskey and water, To drink to old Rosin the Bow.” To drink, &c. And when I am dead, I reckon, The ladies will all want to, I know, Just lift off the lid of the coffin, And look at old Rosin the Bow. And look, &c. You must get some dozen good fellows, And stand them all round in a row, And drink out of half-gallon bottles, To the name of old Rosin the Bow. To the name, &c. Get four or five jovial young fellows, And let them all staggering go, And dig a deep hole in the meadow, And in it toss Rosin the Bow. And in it, &c. Then get you a couple of tombstones, Place one at my head and my toe, And do not fail to scratch on it The name of old Rosin the Bow. The name, &c.