And then—you'll get it hot.
Those old familiar trees
Are glory and renown.
Don't think your business, please,
Is just to hew them down!
We ask you, for the nonce.
If such appeal is vain,
We'll bid you, sharp, at once,
"Cut"—and don't come again!
And then—you'll get it hot.
Those old familiar trees
Are glory and renown.
Don't think your business, please,
Is just to hew them down!
We ask you, for the nonce.
If such appeal is vain,
We'll bid you, sharp, at once,
"Cut"—and don't come again!