The Old Tree

Deep in forest far away

There stands an ancient tree,

Where, in time past, the trav’lers lay

Shaded from the heat.


At night, they fires built from the boughs

They cut, and rested deep,

A sleep unbroken, quiet, sound,

As trees the watch did keep.


Now years have passed, and forest old

Has dwindled small; but still

The ancient tree that mem’ries holds

Stands, marked by history’s quill.


See, here, the marks of axe and saw,

And there, the scars of fire?

Long may this edifice stand tall

And stories great inspire.

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