John Howard Payne.
From Casa Guidi Windows.
Juliet Of Nations.
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I heard last night a little child go singing ’Neath Casa Guidi windows, by the church, O bella libertà, O bella!—stringing The same words still on notes he went in search So high for, you concluded the upspringing Of such a nimble bird to sky from perch Must leave the whole bush in a tremble green, And that the heart of Italy must beat, While such a voice had leave to rise serene ’Twixt church and palace of a Florence street; A little child, too, who not long had been By mother’s finger steadied on his feet, And still O bella libertà he sang. |
Elizabeth Barrett Browning.
Woodman, Spare That Tree!
“Woodman, Spare That Tree” (by George Pope Morris, 1802-64) is included in this collection because I have loved it all my life, and I never knew any one who could or would offer a criticism upon it. Its value lies in its recognition of childhood’s pleasures.
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Woodman, spare that tree! Touch not a single bough! In youth it sheltered me, And I’ll protect it now. ’Twas my forefather’s hand That placed it near his cot; There, woodman, let it stand, Thy ax shall harm it not. That old familiar tree, Whose glory and renown Are spread o’er land and sea— And wouldst thou hew it down? Woodman, forbear thy stroke! Cut not its earth-bound ties; Oh, spare that agèd 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 played. My mother kissed me here; My father pressed my hand— Forgive this foolish tear, But let that old oak stand. My heart-strings round thee cling, Close as thy bark, old friend! Here shall the wild-bird sing, And still thy branches bend. Old tree! the storm still brave! And, woodman, leave the spot; While I’ve a hand to save, Thy ax shall harm it not. |
George Pope Morris.