And bargained me off, me, the strong arm of the oak,
That wore an emerald shield, and made arrows of all the beams,
And flashed and murmured at dawn, in the red eve,
And beneath the seraphic moon;
Yes, me, did that careless woodman
Bargain for a keg of apple-sauce,
The mean, sneaking villain!
That pitiful woodman!
And here the helve sang out keen and shrill like the sap
When it shrieks in its prison for help,