The song of the woodman’s axe!
’Tis meet to sing of th’ lowliest thing
That graces the reign of Peace,
And add our praise, in hearty lays,
Or prayers for bright increase.
In the ruddy flood of battle’s blood
Its splendor ne’er was dimmed,
For a gentler fame awaits its name
Than e’er the soldier hymned.
Like a pioneer, with voice of cheer,